


Contract

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baby Play, Bad Behaviour, Betrayal, Bruises, Cage, D/s relationship, Denial, Diaper, Dirty Talk, Dragon Kiss Whip, Electric Toys, Electric shocks, F/M, Filming, Fisting, Hand-feeding, High Heels, Humbler, Lies, M/M, Medical Restraints, Muzzle, Nipple Piercing, Prince-Albert-Ring, Punishment, Riding Crop, Ruler, Sadism, St. Andrew's Cross, Suspension Bondage, Welts, aftermath of abuse, baby-play, bull-whip, dealing with trained behaviour, dressed in women's clothes, eating from bowls, mystrade, pacifier-gag, performing on stage, pissing, pony-play, raped in front of a camera, receiving guests and servicing them, straightjacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 83,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26814562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: John Watson is Sherlock Holmes' dom. He has to punish his sub regularly due to bad behaviour. And he is the most incentive dom. He also is a sadist. Plus, he is acting. He lures Sherlock in and tells him everything he needs to hear to trust him.Sherlock only wants to please his dom and does everything he wants. He agrees to every sick game, every play or scene just to not lose him.John likes this more and more and becomes stricter and more brutal.He cuts off Sherlock's relations, the few he still has. Sherlock is not in charge of his body or life anymore.He belongs to John, his dom. Everything does.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind that this is rather brutal. I will add tags and characters when posting a new chapter.

John looked at Sherlock’s back. His naked back. It was bruised and covered in welts, some old and some new. Some bloody and some not.

He sighed. Sherlock’s back was a mirror of his behaviour towards him or others.

Sherlock’s body twitched but he held his position. He knelt in his corner to the left of the living-room window. His hands were folded on his nape and he knelt straight up.

John checked his watch. He had been kneeling for almost three hours now.

How was it even possible that John had to dish out these punishments more often lately? Why did Sherlock behave like a brat? He bloody well should know and remember the rules, damn it!

Not that John didn't enjoy punishing his sub, quite the opposite. But there were rules in a d/s relationship. If it was only him beating the bloody soul out of Sherlock's body, then what was it all about?

Sherlock drove him mad, absolutely mad. Right now, he wasn't able to Master the insane man. It was as if he was provoking him and John just wanted a break. If he wouldn't get a break the cane or whatever implements of pain he used would grow attached to him.

John shook his head. Was he going mad? Really? His thoughts and fantasies were spinning while he stared at the too thin and beaten body in front of him.

He had to talk some sense back into him. He just had to follow the rules. And John wanted to try and talk to him again. He had calmed down and Sherlock should be rather pliable by now. John would leave the gag on while talking to him. That way he prevented another punishment. He just knew Sherlock would talk back. Today was one of these days.

One of the many days when Sherlock needed to be shown his place.

***

“Sherlock, stand up and come over here. Assume position by my side.” Sherlock turned his head. His lips were forced open by a huge ball-gag and formed a perfect circle around it. Saliva had dried on his chin and the edges of his mouth were torn and crusted over by now.

For just one second his hurtful look showed when their eyes met but he lowered his gaze at once. He stood and swayed for a second but then came over. He knelt by John’s side and his hands got folded again. He spread his legs and just waited.

“You can be so perfect for me. Right now, you are perfect for me. Why do you always make me punish you? Why do you provoke me?” He looked at him again but Sherlock stared at the hardwood.

“Look at me.” Slowly he looked up and their eyes met again. His cheeks were flushed but he kept the eye contact. John’s ice-blue eyes pierced into his brain and made him shiver. They also made him hard. A low moan erupted.

“You know this is your fault alone, don’t you? We do have a contract. We negotiated for days on end to establish what we have. Why can’t you follow the rules? Do you like being punished like this? It doesn’t look it, I think.” Sherlock made another noise and John flicked his nipple.

“Shut up! I am your dom. I must be an incapable dom because I am not able to make you behave. Not at home and not around others. They probably laugh about me, you know? Do you like that idea? Them laughing about me? Are you turned on by it?” Now Sherlock looked out of wide eyes at John and slowly shook his head. Whimpers came out from behind the gag and he cried.

“Your regret is too late, Sherlock. I honestly don’t know what to do with you. Punishment obviously doesn’t work. You simply don’t accept or honour me just a little bit. You don’t honour our relationship. That’s why I want a break. I want you to think it through. What do you want from me, from our relationship? My errors. Am I doing anything wrong? Just think about it.” John slowly stood and Sherlock’s eyes followed his hands.

Very slowly John took off the gag and just dropped it on the floor. It landed with a soft thump and Sherlock’s jaw cracked.

“Please! I didn’t mean to …” But John just held up his finger and stopped him.

“No, Sherlock. Not now. Take your time. I am stopping this right now until further notice.” Sherlock reached out for John, still on his knees, but John turned around and left for his old room upstairs. Sherlock fell back on his heels and his hands rested on his thighs.

He sat there for hours until it was dark. John moved around over his head and returned sometime later to sit in his armchair. Sherlock didn’t move from the floor where he sat on his heels. He kept staring at the back of John’s armchair.

Finally, he realised that he needed a wash and a visit to the loo. He slowly stood and entered the bathroom. He showered and washed his hair. He hissed when the foam ran over his welts and bruises. John had only superficially taken care of his wounds and Sherlock hadn’t minded. Now he paid the price.

He carefully towelled himself dry and dressed into trackpants, socks and a t-shirt. In his bedroom, their bedroom, he sat on his side of the bed. He could hear John rummage in the kitchen. He was cooking something. He would want him to eat, he knew it. He knew it would be better if he just did. Otherwise everything would become worse.

He looked into the mirror and then just breathed. He needed to face John, his perfect dom. He loved him so much. He already missed him. He knew that he would sleep alone tonight.

Sherlock opened the door and stepped outside. He had been right, John was cooking. Without being told Sherlock set up the table as John liked it. He took a table-cloth and folded two napkins. He placed a candle in the middle and lightened it. He smelled pasta and a creamy sauce, so he chose bowls and spoons and forks to use. He also filled water into a jug and took two glasses.

And since their being together had been called off, he just sat down and waited for John to join him.

***

John heard him set up the table and he wondered why it worked right now. Had he scared him by his actions? Was Sherlock afraid? But afraid of what? That John would leave him? That he would rip apart their contract?

He would never do that. He wanted that insane man. His sub. His one and only. He slowly stirred the sauce and filled their dinner into bowls which he placed on the table between them. He sat down. And he kept acting.

“Thanks for joining me, Sherlock. I appreciate it.” Sherlock just barely nodded but filled his bowl. He needed to please his dom, he desperately needed it, his praises, his lovable words directed at him.

“Thank you for cooking, John.” He knew the game was off, that’s why he called him John. He wondered if he should try to explain what had gone through him earlier today but then decided it was too soon. John had wanted him to think. So, he estimated the time in which a proper thinking could happen.

But first of all, he needed a clue where to start. When did everything go wrong? He would need to visit his mind-palace after dinner. Not now. John didn’t like him to drift away while having dinner.

He took a mouthful of spaghetti and sucked them inside his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks and a bit of pasta sauce splashed on his face. At once there was John’s finger but a centimetre in front of his cheek John stopped and lowered his gaze. Then he just pointed and Sherlock took the napkin.

“I am sorry.” Sherlock said placing the napkin back on his lap.

“Never mind.” John said drinking some water. He had stopped just in time. He needed to establish a certain distance for the time being. The amount of time Sherlock needed to come back to him. However long that would take. John had no idea.  
They didn’t talk during dinner and when John stood, Sherlock stood as well and rinsed their dishes. He stashed everything into the dishwasher and cleaned both the table and the kitchen. After he was done, he stepped up to John and bid him good night. He knew better than trying to kiss him. Instead he just longingly looked and swallowed. For a second their eyes met and John’s were just as dark and sad as his own. John had trained this expression for a long time in front of the mirror at work.

“Good night, Sherlock.” Sherlock had no idea if John intended to sleep in their bed or upstairs in his old room. Just to show him he left his door a bit ajar to show John he would be welcome.

Sherlock climbed into the bed and under the duvet. He rolled on his side facing the table of elements on the wall. Then he entered his mind-palace.

***

He started with this morning when he had woken up to his dom’s kisses. He had been tethered to the bed overnight with the help of a straightjacket and a blindfold. John had told him that he needed to learn how to stay calm and relax and not kick around in bed. He had happily agreed to that lesson. Not that he had had a choice anyway.

Now his dom was all over him and rolled him on his front. He once slapped his behind and Sherlock knelt face down on the mattress. He spread his legs wide and John grabbed his hips. His hole was still loose enough from yesterday’s activities. Or at least John thought so and pushed into him.

Sherlock bit into the sheets and groaned. John slapped him.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to please your dom?” He pushed into him again.

“Always, Sir! I always want to please you!” He already panted and became hard under John. He also was disgustingly sweaty inside the straightjacket.

“You smell like an animal, Sherlock! You are turning me on!” He slapped and pushed again and again.

“Tell me how you like my cock into your tiny and well-used arse! Come on and tell me right now!” Sherlock groaned but lifted his head.

“I like your cock very much pounding into my arse, Sir! Anytime you want and need it, any time! Please go faster, harder! Slap me! Scratch me! Oh God, please!” He wailed when John tore his nails down his legs while being buried to the hilt inside of him. Sherlock sobbed and shook.

“You are so good for me, Sherlock! You are my perfect sub, my beautiful Sherlock! My wonderful lover! My brilliant detective!” He pushed and pushed until Sherlock’s head bumped against the headrest.

“But that's just not good enough, is it? Mainly you are my slut, my bed-slave, my cock-slut, my bitch!” John bit hard into his shoulder and made him scream. John loved giving him names. He knew Sherlock didn't like it but that was just the point, wasn't it?

John laughed a bit cruelly and kept fucking him roughly. His self-control was perfect and he didn't come. Instead, he violated him and kept him on the edge for a very long time. Only when he felt Sherlock go halfway limp, he pulled out and Sherlock shouted. At least he meant to shout but couldn't anymore. Instead, a wailing sound came out of his mouth because this had hurt. He was turned around and their eyes met. At once Sherlock forgot all about the pain. There was John, his dom, and the way he looked at him was indescribable. He was proud of him and Sherlock relaxed. He knew he needed this. John always knew what he needed even if he didn't like it.

John smiled and grabbed his legs shoving them up. He pressed them on his chest and pushed back in.

“Talk to me, slut!” Sherlock licked his lips. His fringe was glued to his sweaty skin but he talked.

“You are the best, Sir. Your cock is the biggest and I only want yours. Forever. No one else touches me or fucks me. It is only you I need. Only you I let do these things to me. Only you bring me pleasure.” John had somehow slowed down and stared into his face. He had thought about letting him out to others, perhaps in a club. It would be a simply fantastic plan if Sherlock didn't like it. He smirked but only inside.

And by the word pleasure, he shot his cum into his weak body while pinching his nipple. He yelled the place down. John liked the sound.

***

Sherlock analysed their fuckfest and found nothing weird. John had been very pleased and he got fucked into the mattress. John was happy. He was able to see that. He had praised him by letting him come without any games. That was special.

So, what else happened that day?

Next, John made him eat breakfast. But first he shoved him into the shower. He came out in one of his posh suits and sat down. John just raised his brows and looked at him. He stood at once and bowed his head.

“I am sorry, Sir.” He grabbed a cushion and knelt by John’s chair. It was their breakfast ritual. He was to wait until John had prepared everything and placed it on the table. It was John’s decision how Sherlock would have his breakfast. Being hand-fed on his knees by his dom’s side or like a grown-up on his chair.

John sat down and placed his palm on Sherlock’s head.

“Now, will you be my good boy?” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Would my sub like to have breakfast?” Sherlock tried to look through his fringe. At once John’s hand fisted into his hair.

“Yes, Sir!” Sherlock quietly hissed but held still. John let go and sighed.

“Assume position then.” Sherlock entwined his fingers on his back and opened his mouth when John fed him scrambled eggs and two slices of buttered toasts.

“Any fruit?” John asked.

“Orange, please, Sir?” John fed him several slices of orange and Sherlock licked his lips. Then John licked his lips and smiled.

“Well, you barely made it but you saved it. Get up and do whatever you are up to.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Sherlock quickly stood and placed the cushion back where it belonged. Then he checked his mobile and grinned.

“We are summoned. Lestrade sent a text. Are you coming, Sir?” John smiled and stood. HE really liked being on crime-scenes. He always wondered if he could learn something new.

“Yes, of course I am coming. We will clean this up later. Where are we going?” They donned their jackets and dashed downstairs.

“Crime scene by the Millennium Wheel.” Sherlock summoned a cab out of nothing and they rode over. The moment they had left their flat everything was normal, so to say. They wouldn’t bring their dom/sub thing into work. Not in front of others. Sherlock had wished for that being afraid of losing their respect if they knew. John had agreed to that. For now, he was happy enough with the fact that Sherlock submitted to him at home. The rest, well, he would just see to it time come.

Of course, there had to be Sergeant Donovan, Sally, at the crime scene, too. She frowned when seeing Sherlock but then wickedly smiled. She looked at John though.

“You accept that kind of behaviour from your pet? What sorry kind of a dom are you?” She whispered the last words but Sherlock had heard them. He became beetle red but bit back a horrid reply when looking at John. He just dashed by and disappeared into the building looking for Lestrade.

John looked Sally into her eyes.

“I will only say this once, Sergeant. Don’t you ever disregard my submissive in front of me. He deserves much better than you calling him names. Don’t think that I don’t know. Talking badly about him means talking badly about me, too. Think about it. You don’t want to upset me, do you, Sergeant?” She swallowed feeling his presence. Her skin tingled even though she was a domme, too. But not as powerful as John Watson. She felt a bead of sweat run down her spine and swore to herself. Outside she snorted and let go. Anderson would have to pay for that tonight.

John followed Sherlock and found him staring at the corpse. Lestrade stood a few feet away. John stepped up to his side and looked at the corpse, too.

“You handled that very well right now. I handled the rest.” He once pressed his wrist and looked up leaning against him. Sherlock looked down his nose and his eyes were wet. He quietly cleared his throat.

“Thank you, John.” His thumb moved over John’s hand and he let him.

“Whenever you are ready, Sherlock.” Lestrade interrupted them by stepping up to Sherlock’s side. Sherlock inhaled deeply and started to explain why this was a crime of passion, who the murderer was, what she used to kill the man and where she would be found. Then he looked at Lestrade.

“I’ll be going home now. Call if you need me.” Then he looked at John.

“Please?” John nodded and pulled him along. Lestrade stared after them. Had he just heard the magic word coming from Sherlock directed at John?

***

Sherlock still stared at the table of elements and analysed the crime scene. There was nothing which could have made John behave like he did. Why was he so disappointed with him? Sherlock once quietly sobbed.  
He needed to find a solution to this drama. He couldn’t ever lose John, his dom. Never.

So, what else had happened? Had he somehow annoyed him in their home? Sherlock thought about coming home after the crime scene.

John had settled in his armchair and scratched his head. Sherlock hung up his coat and John’s jacket and prepared tea. He filled the kettle and switched it on. He took John’s mug and added the tea-bag. Some milk went into it, too. When it was done, he carried it over and knelt between John’s legs. He offered the mug with the aromatic tea looking at his dom. John smiled and took it.

“Thank you, pet. This is nice.” He sighed and sipped it. But he still didn’t speak.

“Permission to speak, Sir?” Sherlock asked making John look up again.

“Sure, my little slut. What is it?” Very carefully Sherlock placed his palms on John’s thighs.

“I wanted to thank you, Sir. For what you did today.” John raised his eyebrows.

“What did I do?” He really seemed to be clueless but he actually wanted to know what Sherlock felt and thought about it.

“You said something to Sally. Probably something I would have been beaten for.” A small smile was on John’s lips. He shrugged nonchalantly.

“I threatened her. She accepted my dominance over her. That’s all. By the way, I am proud of you. The way you handled her assault was very good.” Sherlock bit his tongue.

“Speak up, bitch. What is it?”

“It felt very cowardly. Like I am not able to speak for myself.” John lifted up his chin.

“Well, we both know what might happen if you do so, don’t we?” Sherlock didn’t answer. A few seconds later he said some more though.

“She always hurts me by calling me names. Why? It’s mean.” John carded through his hair.

“I know, Sherlock. She is mean to you and I am trying to stop it, OK? I will talk to Greg, too.” Sherlock would have preferred to talk to Greg alone but he didn’t say so.

“Thank you, Sir.” John kept on carding but soon had several strands of Sherlock's longish hair around his fingers and pulled. John smiled when he saw Sherlock's eyes water. Sherlock pressed his face into John’s palm.

Both men knew that only John had the right to give him names, be cruel and do whatever he wanted to Sherlock.

***

Nothing bad had happened after they had returned home and Sherlock slowly became tired. But he needed to find out what went wrong.

And then it suddenly hit him. He had successfully supplanted the event. But now he remembered. Someone had knocked when Sherlock was kneeling by John’s side. They weren’t expecting visitors and John made a move for Sherlock to get up but he wasn’t quick enough and the door banged open.

There she was. Sergeant Sally Donovan sneering at him, arms akimbo, with her biggest fan behind her.

“See, Anderson, what I have been talking about?” Sherlock’s face changed colours from red to white and back. But he wasn’t able to get up. Instead, John stood in front of him and shielded him.

“Out! You are not welcome here! Don’t make me show you the way out!” Now she paled a bit and Anderson was already back outside.

“Lestrade sent me to bring some files for the freak.” She tried to hand them over but John didn’t take them.

“I make sure that Greg will get to know what you did. We don’t take cases right now, Sergeant. Now please be so kind and piss off.” John was pure danger. He felt the urge to take care of his sub now who still knelt on the floor. Unmoving.

Sally sneered some more, dropped the files, and turned around.

“Pick those up right now.” John quietly ordered and the temperature in the room was somehow lower than before. Actually, she came back and picked them up. She placed them on the coffee table and then she was gone.

John closed the door and hurried back to Sherlock. He knelt by his side. Now he had another chance to show him how much he cared or him.

“Get up, pet, and sit down.” Tears were streaming down his face and he shook with rage and anger. John tried to help him up and into his armchair but he hit him with his flailing arms.

“No, don’t touch me!” He shouted and stood on swaying legs looking at John who stood absolutely still. Sherlock had never done such a thing. He slowly straightened up, too.

“Sherlock, come down!” John tried to force him by his voice but Sherlock only hectically swallowed and started to rant.

“You are supposed to take care of me! Why don’t you? Why do you let her hurt me? Is this some sort of weird punishment?” John stood absolutely still.

“What’s going on, Sherlock? What do you expect? I just made her go away! And you would know if I dished out a punishment!” John's eyes slanted while looking up at him.

“Not enough!” Sherlock suddenly yelled and panted. Then he fell back on his knees.

“I rely on you, John. Sir. I agreed to our contract because I thought you were able to make it better, make them stop hurting me.”

“Are you telling me right now that I am not fulfilling our contract?” Sherlock started crying again.

“You heard me.”

“If you want me to do such things, we need to take our relationship outside. They will all know. You didn’t want that.”

“I didn’t want that because I assumed you didn’t want that.” He sobbed.

“I am happy in our relationship. Don’t assume things, OK? I will take our relationship wherever we want it to go. But you can’t expect me to know things if you don’t talk to me.”

“If I talk too much you will gag me.” Now John’s eyes became big.

“I only gag you when you are back talking.”

“Explain the difference between back talking and discussing things.” John couldn’t believe his ears. He got his chances delivered here one by one for more and more punishments.

“When you are back talking you are questioning my decisions, my educational methods. You become stroppy and behave childish, like a brat. I would never gag you when we discuss something. And if you have the feeling that something isn’t right, then you need to tell me.” Sherlock snorted.

“I just do exactly that and you hate it.” John pressed his fingers on the bridge of his nose.

“I very much believe that you understand the difference between being gagged and back-talking. You do know very well I like you gagged. I like the sight of it. I like putting different gags on you. You should be proud wearing my gags!”

“And you should know that I like being manhandled by you ...” Sherlock's voice became smaller.

“OK, let’s discuss the issue.”

“I am an issue now? Great!” Sherlock stomped away and stood in front of the living-room window. His shoulders shook. John had no idea what to do and decided to give him time. He grabbed his jacket and wanted to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“I am giving you time to think about this. Please know that I want to keep you, no matter what.” Then he left.

Sherlock saw him leave and went right away up on the attic to smoke. He knew it was forbidden. It was in their contract. No smoking. He snorted and opened the window.

***

Right then Sherlock remembered. That had been it. When John had come back, he had been furious when Sherlock smelled of smoke. He had snatched his wrist and pushed him down on the desk. He had tied his wrists on his lower back and ripped down both his trousers and boxers. And then he had spanked him with a wooden ruler until he sobbed and cried and begged for mercy.

“Tell me you are sorry, bitch.” John hissed out his order but Sherlock turned his head away and replied.

“I am so not sorry. You should be the one who is. You left.” John fisted into his hair and brought him on his knees. He pushed his thighs apart and forced his head back.

“What?” Sherlock repeated what he had just said and John hit his cock with the ruler. He hit it several times until Sherlock wailed.

“You know what I want to hear, don’t you?” Sherlock hissed it out.

“It’s about time to gag me hence the back talking and such?” John paled but dragged him behind and into their bedroom. There he untied him and Sherlock’s mind returned to the point when John called off their relationship.

Sherlock’s time-line was totally messed up. He wasn’t able to get the events in a row. But did it matter anyway?

Sherlock had questioned it, him, his dom. He told him he didn’t take enough care of him. And he still felt he was right.

His cock still hurt.

***

John had left him right there on his bed. Sherlock had said things he needed to think about. Did he really feel like this? Or had it been his stroppy self-talking to him? But even if, there must be some truth in it.

He sat in his armchair and had pulled his legs up. He covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook and he cried. He cried because he was so upset and angry. How could he?

John did not think he had failed in taking care of Sherlock. Should he have shown him more how much he appreciated him as his sub? He thought he had. Should he have been listening more often to Sherlock instead of gagging him? But he liked him being gagged. And tied up.

John’s hands kept shaking and his head hurt. He felt a migraine coming up. He sighed and walked into the bathroom to take a pill. He feared his nightmares. He only feared them when being alone, without Sherlock who always helped him through them by sucking him off or by just letting him being roughly face-fucked. But now he wasn’t with him. He took a second pill and walked upstairs.

Even though John had taken the pills, he wasn’t able to sleep. He listened in to the flat but wasn’t able to hear anything. Sherlock didn’t get up to play his violin which he had hoped for. It always soothed him. Had he ever told him? He really didn’t know. He should have. He would do so tomorrow. Perhaps a few nice words for his sub would do a lot of good?

John needed to know that he was OK. He needed to see him. Right now. He got up again and walked downstairs. He half expected him to rest on the sofa but he wasn’t there. The kettle was cold. He stood in front of their bedroom and pressed his ear against the door which stood a bit ajar.

Nothing. He heard nothing.

He opened the door and looked. Sherlock was fast asleep in their bed. He was on his side facing the other wall. He was completely engulfed in his blanket and only his hair showed.

John sneaked into bed on his other side and took his side of the blanket. He placed his palm on Sherlock’s hip and pressed his nose against his shoulder.

Tomorrow he would take him home again.

***

Sherlock woke because a certain point between his shoulders was feeling warmer than the rest of his body. He sensed John. He carefully turned around. John slept on his side facing him. His hand had fallen off his body and he looked restless. He frowned in his sleep and his fingers twitched.

“I missed you.” Sherlock whispered and his fingers traced a line over John’s forehead. At once he relaxed beneath him. Sherlock looked at him. Surprised.

John’s fingers found Sherlock’s shirt and clawed into the fabric. Sherlock moved closer and held him close to his body. He roughly whispered into his ear.

“I love you, John. I’ll never go away. Whatever you do to me, I don't mind. Do you hear me? Never. It’s my biggest fear. That’s why I agreed to everything …” He shook his head and closed his burning eyes.

John kept sleeping rather peacefully by now being watched by a crying Sherlock.

Sherlock stared for a long time not seeing. He didn’t even notice John opening his eyes. Not until he cleared his throat and spoke.

“What's wrong with you?” Sherlock’s eyes focused.

“Nothing.” John raised a brow.

“Obviously that is not the truth. Talk to me, slut. Perhaps I can make it better?” John smirked and Sherlock looked at John’s hand which still held his tee.

“I need you to listen to me, John. I will explain some things to you and I know you won’t like a single word of it. But you need to know. I can only ask for your understanding and help but I’d understand if you’d need a time out. A real time out.”

“I will listen to you. Go ahead, pet.” Sherlock moved between John's legs and placed his head on his chest. John heard his fast-beating heart. This position felt surprisingly nice. He liked it and tightened his muscular thighs around Sherlock’s body.

“I loved you for a long time. I never dared to speak up because I was afraid, I might lose you. But that day when you became so angry and pulled me over your lap and spanked the living shit out of me after I took off after a murderer all by myself, without you and your protection, I found you must love me, too. Because if you wouldn’t, you wouldn’t care so much about me and my well-being.” John hummed.

“At first you didn’t realise how aroused I was but when you did, you started to play a bit by forcing my arm back, by pulling my hair and everything you did was perfect. But you never let me come and I was so hard for you, so hard.” Here Sherlock stopped and licked his lips.

“You threw me off your lap and as if by instinct I came up on my knees between your legs. My erection showed clearly and so did yours. But then you stood and I didn’t move. I just waited. I was excited. My cock pulsed and hurt. You came back with some stuff from your room. You told me to get naked and I obeyed. You tied my hands on my lower back. You forced the first ball-bag between my lips and it was glorious. You knelt behind me and took my prick into your strong hand.”

“The touch alone made me scream and my body shook. I leaked already but needed the last push. I tried to beg but I was gagged efficiently. You stroked me from behind and used the pre-cum to slick up your fingers. You probed on my hole and I stilled. It had been years and it never felt like this. The last time I spread my legs was for my dealer to get some cocaine.”

“But this was you and I sobbed with joy, happiness and love.”

“Soon I screamed and shouted because you kept finger-fucking me so hard. At first you never touched my prostate, you just rudely opened me up.”

“Suddenly you grabbed my hips and pushed into me. Your big cock was breaching me and it burnt and hurt like hell. I shouted out my pain. But at the same time, you stroked my cock and I had no idea what I wanted.”

“You forced your cock into me and kept pounding and pounding until I almost lost my consciousness. And only then you started to rub over my nub and your thumb pressed into my slit. You whispered obscenities into my ear and made me come twice and intense until I sagged in your grip.”

“But you kept fucking me hard until you came into me. When you pulled out it hurt again but I was only able to groan. You let go of me and I fell down on my side. My vision was blurry but I looked up at you. Then I was gone.”

“This is my first memory and I knew back then that it was what I wanted. You manhandling me, fucking me into the mattress the way you wanted, only you counted. I loved you and I couldn’t ever lose you.”

“You were happy that I shared your kinks. You had no idea that I had no idea about these things at all. I just did what you wanted. Some of it brought me joy and immense pleasure. Some of it never did but I took it because I knew you liked it. And I always wanted you to be happy.”

Sherlock looked up at John who just stared at him. He swallowed. John showed no emotion and Sherlock became a bit cold.

John had listened to all this while pressing his legs around Sherlock. He had wondered already how many times he might have raped his lovely slut? The submissive who loved him so much that he did all these things? He tried to hide his thoughts and it seemed to work because Sherlock began talking again.

“You came up with the contract thingy and to make it real for you, I negotiated with you. Even though I would have signed it blindly. I’d do anything for you. All the kinky games you secretly enjoy, I would do them. So, I negotiated some things to not make you suspicious and it worked perfectly.”

John could have hit himself. It could have been so much simpler. He just hadn't wanted to make him suspicious; he had thought it needed time. Instead this bitch longed for his attention. Bloody hell!

“Sometimes though it’s not enough. You are holding back. Maybe it’s because I am not really yours. I feel there is something missing. I need more, John.” Only then he stopped and only breathed.

John closed his eyes for a few seconds and then sat up and faced his lover.

“Well, this explains quite a lot, my wonderful bitch. Mostly the back talking. You were provoking me to punish you harder. You should know that I do love my slut very much. And if I could do what I want with you, well, then you would be wearing my collar. And only your collar it would be at home. It would be 24/7 and you would be my slave. My punishments would be much more severe than they are now. I would take you outside to certain parties to show you off. To show the world how much you love me and that you are able to prove that in public.” He looked at Sherlock and tried to read his face. And he was surprised when he asked a question.

“I would do all that if you just give me your love. I’d like to do my experiments and I’d like to keep my violin, too. If you could consider that, we have a contract.”

“I wasn’t yet done, pet.” Sherlock lowered his head.

“You were to call me Master or whatever I tell you to. You will dress into the clothes I provide for you without question. You will accept any punishment I will set up. You and your cock might end up caged a lot.”

“I trust you, John. And we still have the colours.”

“No, we won't keep them.” After a few seconds Sherlock nodded his agreement.

“What about my work?” John reached out and stroked over his high cheekbone.

“You will keep doing your work, of course. But only because I like it. It's very sexy watching your deductions. We have to think about how we fit it into our 24/7 life but we will find a solution. For instance, to remind you of your place, you could wear a harness around your body and cock.”

“I will serve you day and night.” John smiled devilishly.

“Yes, you will. But at first, I want to know about what you said before. About the things you enjoyed and the things you didn’t. I’ll keep that in mind, to divide it into pleasure and punishments.”

“Whatever you decide, John. I will do what you tell me. Service you. Always. Day and night. Whatever you want. Service you.”

***

Sherlock woke because John bit into his nipple. He looked worried and had no idea what he could do or what he was supposed to do.

“Spread your legs, slut!” John ordered and Sherlock obeyed at once. John was greedy now and roughly shoved three fingers into his hole. Sherlock wasn't able to suppress the sound. It just hurt too much.

“Yes, let me hear you!” John hissed and fisted his cock. Now Sherlock openly wailed. It wasn't yet enough.

John squeezed his balls and made him howl.

“You don't need them anyway! Would you agree to have them cut off? For me?” John was panting when he shoved four fingers into him. Snot ran out of his nose while he weakly writhed on the sheets.

“I can't hear you, bitch!” John yelled and pushed his hand inside. The scream tore through the flat and made him grin. Slowly he closed his hand and shoved his fist deep inside. And when he slowly pulled back, he saw his arm covered in old cum from yesterday. He became unbearably hard and pushed back in.

“Yes! Everything!” Sherlock screamed.

John roughly pulled out and Sherlock's eyes turned back into his head. John hit him flat handed in the face and he used the hand he had just fucked him with. And there he was again. He turned him around and held his bony wrists with his dominant left hand. His right reached out for a rope still being knotted to the bed's frame. He once pulled and the knot gave way. John was a bondage Master. He grinned being very pleased with himself while he tied his slave's wrists tightly together. He wanted to make it hurt. He needed to see some blood.

He turned him on his back and placed his hand around his throat. Sherlock's eyes widened in shock and fear and his lips stood open. John tightened his grip and pulled him up. Sherlock's nostrils flared because he didn't get enough oxygen. He pressed some more and hissed out the next order.

“Get on your fucking knees, slut!” Sherlock scrambled to obey and pulled his long legs under. He spread them by default. John slapped his cock several times very hard until he wailed. The sobbing continued.

John took another rope and bound his genitals. He tied it around and between his testicles and led the rope between his legs up to his bound wrists. If Sherlock started to move too much it would hurt. No matter what he did, it would hurt. John licked his lips.  
And then John sat on his heels in front of Sherlock. He used both hands to claw into Sherlock's hair. He pulled him down and forced him on his cock. He almost choked because of the pain when he pulled the rope.  
John moved his head up and down in a very quick pattern. He held him in position until he heard him gag. He lowered his head.

“If you throw up on my cock and the bed, well. I'll be berating you to a pulp after you have made the bed up again.” Sherlock whined and whimpered but composed himself. John smirked.

“You really made me very angry, slut. You betrayed me. I am not enough for you. Well, I will show you what there is in store for you!” John brutally face-fucked him until he came deep down his throat. He felt him swallow and saw his eyes water. He knew he was about to retch.

“Keep swallowing or I will shove some cloth into your mouth and you will choke!” Sherlock whimpered again and then once belched. He also swallowed everything back down.

Sherlock was too weak to do anything when John climbed off the bed and got some things out of the drawer. At first, he shoved a penis-shaped gag into his mouth that pressed down his tongue and touched the back of his mouth every time he swallowed.  
He buckled a broad collar around his neck that restricted his breathing. Another length of rope led from his collar down to his cock. His head was forced down again.

Sherlock wasn't able to see what John chose next but he felt it for sure when it was being shoved into his arse. He howled around the gag when the large and heavy stainless-steel dildo was forced inside.

“Yes, my lovely sex-slave, I know you love this one, don't you?” John cruelly laughed. He would bloody show him where he belonged and what a 24/7 thing meant. He would learn to love it, to crave everything he dished out.  
He took the remote and lowered his head down to Sherlock's ear.

“I'll set this on a pattern you won't be able to figure out. It will keep you on edge for however long I desire it. And afterwards, well, you'll see.” He once slapped his face and made him groan before he pressed the button. The first electric shock hit Sherlock and he screamed. Every shock made his body convulse and he pulled at the ropes which hurt him only more. It was a circle of pain. It was purgatory. And John was the devil inside.

***

When John returned into the bedroom, Sherlock was bathed in sweat. Tears and snot had dried on his face. John instead was freshly showered and carried even more stuff inside. Sherlock was too exhausted to care. He just needed to please John, let him do whatever he desired. And if he was going to be tortured some more, he just had to bear it. John knew what he was doing. He would make him hurt but he would never allow any injuries like broken bones. Welts and blood, yes. Cuts and bruises, yes. But no more.

Until now.

***

John took the ropes away and finally the gag, as well. Sherlock knew what was expected.

“Thank you, Sir.” John only glared at him.

“I am not yet done with you. Drink this!” He held up a bottle with an energy drink and Sherlock drank. He also thanked him again.

“Get up and out of the bed. Crawl into the living room and stay on the rug in front of the fire-place.” John ordered and Sherlock simply obeyed. He hurt so much and the heavy dildo still sat in his behind. He feared it would stay there for a long time.  
John followed him and once kicked his thighs from behind to make him crawl faster. He scraped his knees on the hardwood and finally reached his destination.

“Forehead on your crossed wrists! Spread your bloody legs!” Sherlock fell into position and by doing so presented his arse to John.

John circled him for a few minutes and thought about what to do first. And then he knew.

He put the metal cuffs around Sherlock's wrists and ankles and grabbed his testicles. He pulled them out long and put the humbler around them. Sherlock sobbed when John closed it.

“Hands!” Sherlock's forehead kept touching the hardwood when he reached behind. John cuffed his wrists to the wooden implement.

“Up!” Sherlock very carefully moved into a kneeling position but it hurt anyway. He tried to focus on the pain and simply held on to it. But it was difficult. What was his dom up to? What did he want?

“Shouldn't you be thanking me? Thanking me for training you properly?” John circled him again and finally picked up a riding crop. He once hit him hard on his lower back and dropped it again.

Sherlock yelled out his pain and scrunched his eyes shut. But then he spoke with a trembling voice.

“Thank you, Sir, for training me properly. Thank you, Master, for showing me my place. Thank you, Sir, for showing me what I really need.” His voice broke with the last word and he looked up at John. And he looked oh so devastated. John licked his lips.

“That wasn't too bad.” Now there was a little bit of hope returning into his eyes but it soon got destroyed.

“Anyway, there is one final training session for you today. Bear it all and you will know your place forever.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Master.” Sherlock replied.

“Do you consent?” It was a mocking question, of course it was, but Sherlock answered it anyway.

“Yes, Master, I do consent.” And he knew very well what he had been doing to himself.

“Very well, slut!” And John put a blindfold over Sherlock's eyes. He felt his tension rise at once. He knew very well how bad it made him feel not being able to see what was coming.

“Open up wide!” Sherlock did that, too. He was able to hear John touch his own flesh and groan by his side. Finally, he shot his load into his mouth but stopped halfway through. Instead he held himself back and his free hand pressed his head back down. Sherlock whimpered due to the pain.

John's fingers grabbed the dildo and roughly pulled it out. Sherlock cried. Then John came into his wide-open hole.

“Hold still!” Sherlock did when John pressed only the head of his cock inside. But when he felt the warmth fill him up, he started to whine and whimper. John pissed into him. He had never done this before. Never.

And he plugged him afterwards. This would be a hell of an enema to go through. He pulled him back up again.

“I can't hear you, bitch!” Sherlock cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Master, for filling me up properly. I really like you fucking me hard. When you pound into me, I feel alive. I also like the other things you do, when you tie me up, gag me and blindfold me, your touches make me feel wanted. When you spank me, your hands on my arse, making it hot and red and burning, it makes me feel so aroused, Sir.” He had blushed because of his humiliation and John found it adorable.

“Would you still like to be mine?” John asked making Sherlock look up again.

“Always. I am yours, Master. Always.” John took some paper and a pen and set up a draft for a new contract.

“These are my wishes. Sign it. Right now. Don’t think. Just do it.” Sherlock simply nodded his agreement but had no idea how he was supposed to read or even sign it.

But then John pressed the paper against the head of his cock that hung limply between his legs.

“Well, why aren't you aroused? I am working so hard here and everything is only for you, pet. Can't you show some gratitude?” John started to pull his cock the way Sherlock liked it. Sherlock's body was betraying him.

“Thank you, Sir. I am trying for you, I really do, Master. Forgive me, please, Sir!” Sherlock begged but desperately tried to push into John's hand. The grip tightened.

“Stop it, slut!” Sherlock sobbed and his muscles tightened. John's piss sloshed around inside of him. His head hurt because it was still pressed down on the hardwood. Plus, he was blind and scared to death.

“I think you need some kind of reward, bitch. And I thought about nipple rings for you.” John said and Sherlock tensed.

“Nipple rings, Sir?” Unconsciously he started to shiver and John licked his lips.

“Yes, I could pull a rope through them and pull you after me or I could connect it to both your collar and your cock, straining them. I also could bind your body to the door again but then I could hang some weights on your cock and testicles. And if you don’t like devices to be put into your pretty behind, I might use some vegetables or fruits? I might also try some force-feeding if you don’t manage your meals.”

Sherlock sobbed desperately but knew he was in no position to expect mercy. John was on a rampage and Sherlock had no idea how long this torture would last. So, he tried to make it better by reacting to John's words.

“I am thankful, Sir, for you providing my meals. And I promise to be better for you, Master. Please forgive me my sins, Sir.” He started the sobbing again.

“You seem to like the talking in the dark. So, keep going and tell me what you think about me putting a diaper on you? Perhaps a onesie, as well? Maybe I'll give you the bottle and something mushy?” Sherlock was tense again and John rubbed his hands.

“Whatever you wish, Master.” John raised a brow.

“This gets boring, slut. I need some more action.” He took the wrist cuffs off the humbler and then got the humbler, too. Sherlock groaned but didn't forget to thank him.

“I want you cleaned out for what I have in mind for you.” He took off the blindfold and held his head up. The steel grip of his fingers made Sherlock's jaw ache.

“Get into the bath and clean yourself properly. If you aren't ready in 20, I will drag you out. Am I understood?” Sherlock's eyes watered when John took some strands of his hair and shook his head from left to right and back. His scalp was on fire.

“Yes, Master.” John let go and Sherlock carefully stood. He was a bit dizzy and his stomach was hurting, too. But he knew he had no choice. He collected his strength and swayed into the bath where at first, he sat on the toilet. It was an awful business when everything simply sloshed out of his behind after he had pulled the dildo out.

He estimated the time and hurried under the shower. He was still drying up when John dashed inside.

“Time is over, bitch. Drop the towel.” Sherlock did as being told and stood there with hanging shoulders.

“Thank you for letting me shower and use the toilet, Master.” Sherlock said and John grinned.

“Out and lean against the bannister with your arms stretched up.” He motioned for him to move and Sherlock assumed his position. John stood on the stairs leading up to his old room and tied his wrists to the wood. Then followed the elbows. His collar was attached, too.

Sherlock wondered what John was up to but he was too confused to detect anything.

His thighs got tied, followed by his knees and finally his ankles.

“Brace yourself because if you fall you might hurt your precious arms.” John grinned and walked away. He returned with a folding table he placed by his side so Sherlock could see it. Next, he placed a stainless-steel plate on it and it looked like out of a hospital. Next came a pair of rings as well as a pair of tiny tweezers.

Right then Sherlock's eyes became wide.

“No, please, no, Sir! Don't pierce my nipples! Please? Master, please?” He started to sweat and twist his body but of course to no avail.

“But yes, my beautiful bitch! I wanted to do this for a very long time and now the time has come! You should be thanking me for enhancing your beauty! And when I finally will show you off, everybody will be in awe!” He disinfected his right nipple and Sherlock twisted his neck to see what he was doing.

“But perhaps I should enhance the experience for you, as well.” John thoughtfully said and turned away again. He returned with a roll of bondage tape. Sherlock sobbed.

“I don't want you to twist around like a mad man. So just hold still and enjoy what I do.” He wound the tape several times over his eyes. Sherlock's mouth stood open and he whimpered quietly.

John enjoyed every fucking second.

When John put his nipple between the metal, he wildly twitched and shook his head.

“No! Please, no!” John grabbed his prick.

“If you don't hold still, I'll give you a Prince Albert as well. So?” Sherlock stopped and stood still.

“I am sorry, Sir. I won't move anymore, Master.” He swallowed and tried to relax his body. John grinned and let go.

He would give him one anyway but not today.

He took hold of his nipple again and pulled it until it stood erect. Only then he got the ring and the little machine. He brought everything up and into the right position. Finally, he pushed the button or more pulled the trigger and the first nipple was pierced.

Sherlock let out a fierce scream and bit his lips bloody. John didn't mind as long as he wasn't moving around. He wiped the bit of blood off and Sherlock hissed out.

“Well?” John asked and Sherlock tensed.

“Thank you, Sir, for making me look good.” He sobbed again when his second nipple was pulled erect and got pierced, too. This time John licked off the blood.

“Thank you, Master. Again.” He cried and wasn't able to say more. John sighed.

“You have been good at this. Good enough for an orgasm anyway.” Sherlock kept sobbing when John grabbed his prick and started to move his strong fingers. His body gave him no choice but to react. Soon he was hard as a rock.

Of course, John knew by then what worked best to make him come. John worked him up and then held him back. Sherlock knew what was expected.

“Please, Sir, let me come! Please, I need your reward!” John let him come and Sherlock felt so good after such a long time. But then John didn't even stop, instead he kept going.

“Oh God, Sir. Thank you! Please, again, one more time, Master, please? Please! Sir, please!” He was a begging mess when he came for the second time. The third time only brought a little cum and started to hurt just a bit. And still John didn't stop.

“Sir, please, stop. Master, please, stop it! I'll do whatever you want! Just please, Sir, stop!” Sherlock begged.

“Whatever?” John asked with a final stroke that wrecked Sherlock's body.

“Yes, Sir ...” Sherlock whimpered and his body shook when John let go.

John knew that Sherlock had reached his boundaries and freed him. He had to hold him up because Sherlock was barely able to walk by himself and he clung to John.

John led him into their bedroom and made him sit on the armchair in there.

“Don't fall asleep while I am making the bed.” Sherlock sat up straight.

“No, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Sherlock croaked out the words. John had to move him beneath the blanket and pull it up for him.

“If you touch the rings, I will hurt you more than you can imagine.” John threatened and once strongly pulled his hair.

“I won't, Master. I promise, Sir.” Sherlock weakly whispered and whimpered some more when he tried to find a position that didn't hurt his body.

It wasn't easy.

***

John watched him sleep for the first minutes but he didn't move. He left the room but didn't close the door. He cleaned all the toys he had used, so they were ready to be used again soon. And Sherlock had just become than a simple submissive. Sherlock was his slave by now. He would do whatever he wanted.

Now he had to see that Sherlock didn't talk about what happened in 221B, mainly to his brother or even Lestrade. He needed to find a way of making Sherlock stop his work. And he had to agree to it, do it on his own free will.

John snorted. He was hungry. He also would teach him to cook, so he could prepare his meals in the future and properly so. He would be living in fucking paradise.

He needed to completely break him. He couldn't run away. Perhaps he should bring in the cage and gag him all the time? All this screaming was only possible because Mrs Hudson wasn't in these days since she was visiting her sister. But she would be back.  
Perhaps he should break him in soon. John sighed. Sherlock must tell both Lestrade and his brother that he stopped the work because he wanted to be with John. Or something the like. And he had to sound trustworthy, not like being forced. John would have to let him run without him to see both men and he wasn't sure that worked. It would be the risk he had to take. Until then he would have the time of his life with Sherlock. And if he let him go, he would either lose him forever or have a trusted sex-slave.

***

The following day John went rather easy on Sherlock. He had him kneel naked by his armchair and talked to him.

“Well, firstly I think some suspension bondage is up for you today. Perhaps I will let you come. Once.”

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock whispered. He was allowed to heel with his hands on his thighs. He wasn't allowed to look at John anymore. He had to lower his head all the time.

***

Half an hour later Sherlock hung from the ceiling being wrapped in black latex. John had left the nipple rings uncovered not to put pressure on them. He had examined them closely and found everything just fine.

“I believe we can put weights up there soon enough.” He laughed when Sherlock thanked him for being so kind to him.

Now he also wore a latex mask which only left his nostrils free to breathe. John had even wrapped his cock in latex stripes and a cock ring was on, too. He wouldn’t let him come too soon, that much was clear.

John let him swing for a while until he was a moaning, leaking mess. This was the nice part.

Then he cut a hole into the latex on his backside and slicked his finger. Sherlock’s body shook and twitched when John pushed into him. His free hand slapped him and Sherlock knew he should be still but he just couldn’t. He took the latex off his cock but used some rope which he attached to a hook in the floor. Sherlock wailed.

Another rope was attached to his balls and from there upwards into the rope bindings. John took off the mask and held him up by his hair.

“Now, my pretty slut. You said earlier that you like giving me head being tied up.” He created a rope-harness around his head and pulled his head back, too. Then he lowered him to the perfect height to suck his cock.

Sherlock actually wasn't able to remember he had ever told John such a thing but of course he didn't even try to argue with him. He just bore everything that John dished out.

“You really are the perfect cock slut, Sherlock. I had no idea. You are doing splendidly.” Sherlock groaned and closed his eyes.

“Eyes on me!” John ordered and Sherlock looked up his mouth stuffed full of John’s huge cock. Saliva and snot were running down his chin and he was close to choking but he kept sucking and swallowing as he knew John liked it.

“I will fuck your face and if I sense one tooth on my tender flesh, I might knock a tooth out. Am I understood?” John threatened and pulled out for a second.

“Yes, Sir.” He replied and prepared himself to be almost choked to death.

John pushed back into his mouth and he lightly swung. The ropes pulled at his testicles and cock and he groaned. The sound made John’s cock vibrate and he groaned, too. He grabbed several lengths of hair and again pushed into him. He held him into position, so he wouldn’t injure his cock and balls. He stuck into his throat and came down that long white neck. Tears ran over his face and when he was done, he pulled out and made him clean it.

“I think you have deserved your reward, bitch.” Hopefully, Sherlock looked at him.

“And now it's gone again because I didn't allow you to look at me. Your fault entirely, slut.”

“Please, Master? I didn't mean to disobey, Sir.” Rough voice and very low. John became hard again. But first it was Sherlock’s turn. He lowered him down on the ground but left the bindings. Sherlock couldn’t see a thing from what was going on behind him but he was able to hear John collecting a lot of stuff.

Finally, he was freed from the latex and got a quick wash, too.

“Thank you, Master. Please forgive me my disobedience, Sir.” Sherlock stuttered out the words but John showed no mercy. He lifted Sherlock's legs.

“Hold your legs, pet.” John put an over-sized diaper on him and Sherlock swallowed. He couldn’t close his legs; it was too thick. John made him stand and then climb into a hamper which he zipped up in the back. It had mittens, too. Next came some sort of muzzle with something to suck on the inside.

He pushed him into his lower back and walked him into the bedroom. He pointed towards the bed and Sherlock sat down. John knelt behind him. He put a hat over his locks and knotted it under his chin.

“Stay.” Sherlock stayed and watched John pulling something from under the bed. It was some sort of a second bed but it had railings on the side. He made Sherlock sit in there and tethered him to the sides in a kind of children’s harness. His legs were spread and he was only able to sit in there. Sherlock didn't make the mistake again and forced his eyes downwards.

“Now I think baby-bitch needs to drink.” John hopped away and into the kitchen. Soon John returned carrying a baby-bottle. He stood next to his bed and removed the muzzle. He stuck the bottle between Sherlock's lips and held it up. Sherlock started to suck. It was apple tea. Not too bad. He had even put some sugar into it. When he was done, he had to belch.

“Good baby-bitch! I'll get you some more!” Sherlock was still glad he could drink. And John gladly provided more. When he had emptied the third bottle he started to talk again.

“Of course, I have added something for your bladder and tummy, so it will be easier for you to let go.” Sherlock shook his head but didn't look up.

John closed the muzzle over his mouth again and tethered the mittens to the bed. He took the harness off, pulled him up on his knees and tied his ankles to the crib, too. He started to rub his stomach and Sherlock groaned. It already cramped inside of him.  
Soon he felt the urgent need to piss. His face became red and he tried to press his legs together which was absolutely impossible, of course. He made noises but John just watched him.

“Be a good baby-bitch and let go.” Sherlock felt hot and when he did let go, it was just awful. Soon after the urge to void was becoming stronger and stronger. John pressed and rubbed on his stomach and soon he had to empty his bowels. The diaper was full and Sherlock was humiliated to no end.

John knelt beside the crib on the bed and masturbated. He stared at him and brought himself off. He was panting and sweating. Sherlock could hear him wank and smell his sweat. He pissed again and John shot his cum all over Sherlock’s face. It was quite the orgasm and John looked very pleased. Sherlock was able to see it for a second when John's eyes were closed.

Then John got up and looked at him.

“I really like this. I will clean you up now but put a fresh diaper on you. You will stay in the crib like a baby. You won't need a real bath.” Sherlock sobbed and his body shook. It made the crib rattle and John didn't like it. He swatted him on the back of his head.

“Stop it!” Sherlock hunched his shoulders but managed.

John got him out and binned the diaper. He used handcuffs to keep him in the shower and only used cold water to clean him. Sherlock shivered but didn't complain. His hands were cuffed to the faucet and he was forced with his arms up and his knees half bent. It hurt, of course it did.

John towelled him dry and put another diaper on him. The hat came back on, too, but also a broad but very coloured collar.

“Look what I have found online for you, my cutest baby-bitch!” John dangled an over-sized pacifier in front of Sherlock's eyes.

“Open up for daddy!” John said and Sherlock felt sick to the bones. But he did open up. What choice did he have with his wrists still cuffed?

John forced the silicone thing into his mouth and his jaw cracked. The edges were torn right away. Colourful ribbons were tied behind his head. His mouth was forced wide open and he groaned.

John found another nightdress for him and it had mittens, too. He made him rest on his front and the rings pressed into his nipples. Tears spilt and he groaned. John pressed on his back to make it even more painful and he wailed.

He tied the mittens to the crib, positioned his head on the side, and pulled a length of rope through a d-ring and tied it off on the side. Sherlock wasn't able to move a lot or even get up. It also seemed John didn't have the intention to feed him any time soon.

Of course, Sherlock's legs were too long to fit into this and he had to pull them up. John looked at him and just tethered his ankles to the sides, too.

Before John went to bed, he covered him with a thick blanket. He wasn't able to push it off and he started to sweat at once. But sweating was better than cramping or filling the diaper. It wasn't painful and he just closed his eyes. This time Sherlock really was thankful for something just because it didn't hurt.


	2. Chapter Two

Days and weeks passed in which John tightened his grip on Sherlock. More and more he ruled over him, his life, and his soul. And Sherlock was helpless. He did what John wanted. He was his dom and he had the right to do what he did.

The worst was that Sherlock still loved him. John knew that, of course, he did. So, he sometimes dished out a reward, was nice to him. He gave him something for his sweet tooth or even let him come. The smile Sherlock had for him was all he wanted because it showed him, he was doing it right.

John didn't allow him clothes inside anymore. The only thing he wore was a collar. Everything else John had taken away. Sherlock had no watch, no mobile or laptop. The only things he got on him beside the heavy collar were the stainless-steel nipple rings and a Prince Albert. The last one only was a few days old and now it shone on his dick. John loved the sight. Sherlock didn't but would never tell.

He was in John's hands. Completely and utterly. He did whatever he wanted. He didn't think about it anymore. He only lived for the few moments of happiness when John smiled at him, patted his head, or even stroked over his body.

He knew if John left him, he wouldn't be able to survive. John was the only one who cared for him. He provided his meals and gave him a home.

John had even managed to make Sherlock give up his work. He had forced him to talk to Lestrade and his brother. Greg had been sad and his brother was irritated. But Sherlock had seemed to be just fine. He was well dressed and very convincing.

He was because John had threatened him with the utmost pain and unbearable treatments if he wouldn't do it. Sherlock didn't dare tell either Greg or his brother because he knew what John was capable of. That way he had lost all possible help he had out there. Plus, he still didn't want to be left alone, left behind.

And now he was John's 24/7 slave. He got fucked at all times and if he wasn't tied up somehow, sat in a cage or was punished, he cleaned the flat, cooked all the meals or went shopping.

John let him do the shopping all by himself since he had an electric device inside and around his cock. The demonstration had been simple. The pain was horrible and John had waved the remote at him.

So, these days he also wore the devices for his cock and another one stuck inside his arse when he was out for the shopping. He actually always wore a plug, just to remind him of John.

The moment he returned into the flat he had to shed his clothes. Only then he was allowed to do the chores.

His hair had grown quite a bit and John still was obsessed with it. He always used a rope to pull it back into all the other ropes around his body to force his head into a strained position.

Sherlock lived from day to day, from hour to hour, from minute to minute. There was almost nothing left of him. The only thing he needed was John. The few bits of pleasure and happiness John had for him.

Sometimes.

Rarely.

***

John still worked at the hospital. He took one shift or the other just not to be on a regular schedule, just in case Sherlock might plan something.

His old room had been changed into a torture chamber, that was what Sherlock called it inside his head. John called it his playroom. It had several pieces of bondage furniture, a big cross, hooks in the wall, and ceiling, and hardwood.

In one corner sat a metal cage. It was big enough for Sherlock to sit in there with his head between his knees, his legs pulled up and his back bowed. Attached to the cage was a bottle with water. On the bottom was a plastic thingy into which he was supposed to let go.

Sherlock had to stay in the cage when John was at work or anywhere. John had installed a camera to watch him on his mobile.

He always wore a muzzle to mute him, just in case someone knocked at their door. John wondered if he would dare trying to get anyone's attention but better safe than sorry.

Sometimes Sherlock cried. He missed his work, his little lab downstairs, and his violin. He missed Lestrade and even his brother. He had no one to talk to. He wasn't allowed to speak. And he was always hungry.

But he was still alive.

And a small fire still burnt inside him.


	3. Chapter Three

One evening John enjoyed the sight of Sherlock in bondage. He had bound his arms up and his calves to his thighs. A thick electric vibrator stuck inside his arse. He wasn't gagged for once and his hair was wild and flowing towards his shoulders. John was rock hard.

“Now move, pet. You are my pet-crab.” He cruelly laughed while Sherlock shoved himself over the hardwood. His elbows and knees hurt but he was used to it. It could always be worse.

He grounded his teeth and moved to please John. He made him scuttle for a long time. He made him crawl over the floor until there was blood showing his very moves.

“Stop, little crab.” Sherlock stopped and rested his forehead on the wood. Just for a second, he closed his eyes.

“I said nothing of a break, didn't I?” Suddenly he stood by his side. His foot forcefully lifted him up and Sherlock fell hard on his back. John towered above him and smirked.

“Now you look like a bug struggling to get on its legs again. And you should try it because I won't help you.” John stepped over him and left the playroom. He could watch his struggles later because the camera also recorded.

He wondered how long it would take him or if he would even manage.

***

Sherlock stared at the ceiling and wondered how he was supposed to get back on all fours. He tried to roll over and got on his side but from there he couldn't get up. He couldn't use his legs or arms to get a hold on something or push himself over.

He feared John's punishment if he wouldn't make it. He surely would beat him up and made him stay in the cage overnight. Without food probably. Or he would be forced into the fucking-machine and afterwards into the cage. But probably John would just fuck him bloody the way he was and leave him behind. Of course, all of the above was possible, too. Sherlock never could be sure. Never.

So, he tried and tried but couldn't make it. He was too weak to try more than a few times. He quickly was bathed in sweat and panting hard.

From downstairs, he smelled the food John heated up for himself. The food Sherlock had prepared earlier. His stomach rumbled.

“Do you need any incentive, bitch?” Sherlock wasn't gagged, so he expected an answer.

“Please, Master, I need your help. I can't do it, Master.” Sherlock sobbed.

“After dinner, slut.” John called up and Sherlock could hear him laugh. He didn't try again but waited for him. His arms and legs were cramping and the blood flow was restricted. He hurt. He always did.

He had to wait for about an hour until John came up. He only wore a pair of jeans and he looked delicious. Sherlock still loved the sight of him. He was such a good-looking man. Dom. He had lots of hard muscles and beautiful, stunning abs. The adoration must have shown in his eyes because John crouched by his side and looked at him.

Then he showed him the remote and Sherlock paled under his already sick looking skin.

“The incentive, you remember?” He poked him with it. Then he stood again and made a few steps back spreading his legs. Sherlock's eyes followed him and he was scared. He knew how much pain the devices could cause him. And he had no idea how they should make him get back on all fours.

“I am not going to untie you until you have made it back. You will stay like this. I will fuck you like this; beat you like this and leave you like this until you have made it. You will get your meals like this, piss like this and shit like this.”

Sherlock looked desperate and his mouth stood open. John pointed the remote at him and started it.

The pain made him move like a fish on the sand. He shook and twitched and his body flew from side to side. He strained his body so much; he made a half circle on the hardwood. On his back.

John licked his lips while watching him flop up and down. His left held the remote and his right rubbed over his groin.

The weirdest thing was that Sherlock was absolutely quiet. He didn't scream or groaned. He didn't even whimper. His eyes crossed though and both his fingers and toes were spasming.

John knew it was time to stop this. He didn't want to kill him. He enjoyed him too much.

“You are such a disappointment, bitch. I expected more from you. But now I know you lack some training. I will have to think of something.” He slowly shook his head and threw the remote on the ground.

He got a knife from a drawer, a locked drawer, and cut off the ropes. Sherlock's limbs fell to the sides. He couldn't move them a bit and they hurt so much. Now he groaned but only quietly. He knew better.

John rolled him over and knelt between his legs. He grabbed his hips and pulled him up. He held him up with one arm and opened his denims. His cock sprang to life and his hands moved down so his thumbs could part his cheeks.

“You are like a big ragged doll. Perhaps I should get you clothes for a pretty doll, hm? A pretty skirt and blouse? Or a lace dress? What do you think, slut?” He didn't expect an answer and simply pushed into him after having pulled out the plug.

Sherlock's shoulders were on the hardwood and so was his head. His eyes were closed and his arms still shook. John never once touched his prostate but Sherlock's body reacted anyway and he became hard.

“So, you still love me, slut?” John cruelly laughed and fucked him harder. Sherlock knew when to answer.

“Yes, Master, I still love you. Always, Master.” His voice was rough and his throat was raw. He was thirsty. He badly needed to drink. But deep inside he knew he spoke the truth. He still loved him, no matter what was done to him.

John shot his load into him and plugged him afterwards. Sherlock didn't move. John closed his jeans and stood over him.

“If you want anything to eat or drink you need to come downstairs by yourself. I will fill your bowls and wait for you.” He left the playroom and Sherlock breathed and slowly calmed.

He got his shaking arms under him and slowly pushed himself up. He groaned and shook but made it back on all fours. And he crawled. His speed was snake-like but instead of leaving behind a trail of slime, he left blood.

He stopped on top of the stairs and looked down. It seemed like a mountain to him and he was afraid of falling down. But he had no choice. He needed water and food. He needed his dom.

He turned around and got downstairs the way a little child would. Backwards and step by step. He panted loudly after having made it and closed his eyes just for a second. From his position, he could smell both the kitchen and his dom. He moved through the flat doing one thing or the other. He didn't acknowledge him, didn't talk to him.

Sherlock swallowed down his tears and kept moving. He crawled into the kitchen to reach his bowls. Having reached them he knew better than just eat. He needed John's permission. He lifted himself back up on his knees and his arms painfully came up, too. His fingers entwined on his neck and he had to lean against the counter to hold himself up.

It took John a few minutes to come to his side but when he did, he grinned.

“There you are, slut. You made it. I am so proud of you.” He patted his head and Sherlock almost cried. His lips quivered when he croaked out his thanks.

“You may have your dinner now. After you are done, come and see me at once.” A clear and simple order and Sherlock knew he wasn't done for the day. His reply came instantly though.

“Yes, Master.” John left him and Sherlock looked at his bowls. He needed to drink first. He couldn't hold himself up and over the bowl so he stretched out on his front. His arms were around the bowl and his face hovered right above it. He dipped almost his whole face into it and he inhaled the water. He left a bit for after the food and turned a bit to reach the other bowl. Tonight, it was almost a whole can of cat's food. It was mushy and soft but it contained important nutrition. He needed to eat and he ate. He slung his long shaking fingers around the bowl and licked it clean. Then he drank the rest of the water licking his dry lips.

He was thankful, very much so. This wasn't regular treatment and Sherlock wondered what had his dom make him feed tonight. Perhaps the thought he needed to keep some strength. Perhaps he still liked him?

Sherlock breathed several times and slowly crawled over to where John sat in his armchair. He opened his legs and Sherlock knelt between them. John pointed on his thighs and Sherlock used them to hold himself up while he knelt.

“Thank you, Master, for providing food and water for your helpless slave.” Sherlock said.

“You are welcome, slut. I don't want you to faint or become really sick, do I?” He ruffled his hair and Sherlock closed his eyes in delight.

A few minutes passed without John talking. He just carded through his hair and Sherlock almost fell asleep. John pressed his head down on his thigh and felt him relax.

John had a problem to mull over and he could do that best with his sub close. It didn't matter if his sub was sleeping on his thigh. Or perhaps he was unconscious. It wasn't important.

***

Several drinks later with Sherlock still sleeping like a dead man on his knees between his legs he had made his decision. He stood and picked up his sub. He almost gently carried him into the bedroom. The bedroom Sherlock hadn't been allowed in for ages except for being fucked brutally, of course.

John smirked and just dropped him on the bed. Sherlock didn't wake or move a bit. Not even his pattern of breathing changed. John gave him a quick wash and came to bed. He pulled up the duvet and pulled him close.

His pet was supposed to wake up in his old bed and in his dom's arms. In peace. John would tell him than how his next days would turn out. He fell asleep with a pleased smile on his face.

***

Sherlock peacefully slept through the night. When he woke up, he felt warm. There also was a warm body behind him and a strong arm slung over his waist. He was in bed with his dom. He had taken him to bed with him.

Sherlock became excited. What had he done to deserve this? Obviously, he had done something right. He had been good enough to please him so much, he was allowed back to bed. He almost became ecstatic.

“Are you awake, pet?” John asked from behind and played with his nipple-rings. Played, not tormenting him.

“Yes, Master.” His words came out softly. He inhaled sharply when John's hand moved between his cheeks and pulled out the plug. Sherlock expected it to end up inside his mouth but it got thrown on the hardwood.

“Lift up your leg for me, my pretty...” John huskily whispered. Sherlock obeyed at once. He felt John's fingers move into him. He wondered why he wasn't tied up or gagged.

“You will always do what I want, am I right?” John asked.

“Yes, Master. Always.” Sherlock breathed out his answer while his dom's cock invaded his body.

“Let me hear you. Don't hold back.” This was a new order and Sherlock wondered what was going on. But he let out a clear moan when his prostate was touched after a long time of being ignored.

John's arm moved beneath his body and came around his neck. He took hold of a mass of Sherlock's wild curls and forced his head back. His body was strained and John started to fuck him faster rubbing his prostate with every single move.

Sherlock groaned and shook. This was a pleasure. There was no pain. No pain. And he let go. He enjoyed and begged for more. Constantly.

Behind him, John pleasantly smiled. This worked just as he had planned. Sherlock would be so pliable after this and agree to his plans without thinking about it too much.

His free hand moved over his body and finally took hold of his cock. Sherlock shrieked when being touched down there. John stroked it to hardness and whispered into his ear.

“Hold back for me...” This was no hardship for Sherlock. He had been trained to do so very thorough.

John fucked him for a very long time and Sherlock made the most interesting noises.

“I allow you to come but I expect obedience.” John roughly whispered.

“Always, Master.” Sherlock groaned straining his body.

John hooked his finger through the Prince Albert and pulled it. Sherlock screamed out his lust and came. He clenched around John who filled him up.

“You are still hard for me. Do you need to come again?” He pulled the ring.

“Yes, Master! Please, let me come again! Master, please...” He sobbed it out and couldn't believe it when John stroked his cock. He felt him grow inside again and his prostate was teased another time.

Sherlock whimpered and his hands looked for something to hold on.

“Up with them!” John ordered and Sherlock obeyed at once. John's dominant left hand held Sherlock's wrists against his chest. Three fingers of his left formed a circle.

“Push!” Sherlock bucked up into it. He felt his spine tingle and his balls pulled up for a second time. And he came. John stroked him through it and he finally slumped.

John's tight grip lessened and he let go of him after a few minutes. He pulled his hair back and kissed his neck.

“You are the most obedient submissive I ever had.” Sherlock couldn't believe his ears.

“Thank you, Master. I always want to be good for you, Master.” Sherlock whispered.

“Get up and shower. I want you to put on a suit today. Dress up for me and show me how pretty you are, pet.” He used his knee to push him to the edge of the bed.

Sherlock stumbled into the bath being in a dreamy state.

A bit later he stood in front of John who looked him over. The posh dress-suit was a bit too big on him now and his prominent cheekbones stuck out hard. John had to do something about it.

He actually knew a tailor who could change the suit. And he would take care of the rest. It was time for several Botox injections to fill his face a bit. He would need to tie him down for it because it was painful.

Sherlock wondered what his dom was up to. He felt weird dressed up like this. He hadn't been dressed in anything for weeks now and the fabric made his skin itch.

“Stop fidgeting, slut.” His voice was dangerous and Sherlock stood still. A minute later John looked at him again.

“Look at me and listen carefully, bitch.” Sherlock's head instantly came up and they locked eyes.

“You need to get a special treatment to make you look even better. I can't do this here, so we need to go there. You will behave, won't you?”

“Yes, Master. Always.” Sherlock softly replied and John nodded very pleased.

“We will go by car and see a friend of mine. You will not speak. You will not look at him. Your eyes won't look at anyone or anything. You will only answer to me and me alone, no matter what. And you will do as I tell you, am I understood?”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock was excited. They would go somewhere. He would leave this flat. Was this some kind of reward? But what was it that his dom couldn't do here?

“Very good.” John came closer, very close and lifted his hand to his shirt-covered chest. His warm palm covered the place where his heart beat.

“I trust you, my pretty.” Sherlock's heart melted.

John knew how to handle him.

***

John had allowed him a bathroom-break before they left. He had even given him breakfast, a real breakfast with tea and toast and an egg. Sherlock was in heaven.

Now his dom handed over his blue scarf to be slung over his collar. Next came his coat. Everything would have to be changed but John knew how to arrange that. He led him downstairs and between houses. There parked a sleek sedan and Sherlock was pointed on the passenger seat. John buckled him in and they rode through London.

Sherlock looked outside and watched the busy city. The people walking the streets, the cars passing by. He came to life a bit and was convinced to be treated better. He clearly remembered the last time he had been in a car. He had been tied up, gagged and blindfolded. And he had to travel in the trunk, tethered to several hooks so he wouldn't hurt himself if the car made a sharp turn or the breaks were stepped on too hard. John did it on purpose though and later there were many bruises to be counted.

But today was different and Sherlock almost felt giddy. He carefully looked around when the car stopped in front of a bleak concrete building. There were signs showing the names of different businesses.

John moved around the car and opened the door.

“Get out.” Sherlock quickly folded his body out and became a bit dizzy. John snatched his wrist and pulled him along. They entered through a door after having passed several others. It looked like a doctor's waiting room. And there were many dom's with their subs. They were all naked and kneeling on the ground.

Sherlock swallowed and suddenly felt cold again.

“If you behave badly and embarrass me...” John roughly whispered and pressed his wrist hard. He made hit hurt.

“Get out of your clothes.” The order came louder and Sherlock quickly started to undress. John provided a hanger and a cotton bag to stuff everything into. Soon he was naked except for his collar. All the other doms looked at him and John.

A man in a doctor's coat came outside and the moment he saw John a huge grin shone on his face.

“Johnny! There you are! I was looking forward to seeing you again! It has been too long, mate.” He shook his head and John looked happy, too.

“Ralphie, good to see you, too. I am sorry for not having been in contact but the moment I saw your advert, well. Here I am to pimp up my sub a bit.” The doctor looked at Sherlock now.

“I see, I see. No problem. Will he behave?” He looked questioningly at John.

“I am convinced he will but just to be sure you might need to tie him down.” John smirked. Sherlock swallowed.

“Come along then. I am sure you want to see where I am going to treat him. You have to wait for a bit though.” He led the way into practice and Sherlock already began to feel cold.  
They entered a room and John looked around. He seemed to be pleased.

“Listen, Ralph. I have another appointment and can't really wait for the whole time. Why don't you let me tie him down and he can wait on his own? You will get to him whenever you are ready. I will be back later. And I trust you with him. You won't do anything stupid, right?” The man snorted.

“I am not ruining my business, Johnny.” He sounded serious and John seemed to trust him. But John would leave. Sherlock would be all alone with this stranger who would do something medical to him.

Pleadingly he looked at his dom but he didn't dare speak. He knew better. The training he had gone through had been very severe.

“Now pet, come here and sit on this chair.” Sherlock instantly obeyed and John closed several pairs of medical restraints over his ankles, thighs, arms, waist, and chest. He was immobile except for his head but that changed, as well, when a metal contraption was pulled up and two stainless-steel plates held his head tight.

Sherlock hectically blinked and tried to look for his dom. Suddenly he looked into his steel-blue eyes.

“Listen to me. I have to go now but I will be back soon. Behave while I am gone. You don't have to do anything but hold still. What follows will be painful but you won't be harmed. This is not about body-modification.” Sherlock relaxed a little bit.

“Not yet anyway.” John thought and grinned. His thumb moved over Sherlock's forehead and he tilted his head.

“I will behave, Master. I will be good for you, Master.” Sherlock whispered and was close to tears.

“Very good, pet.” John pecked a kiss on his nose and Sherlock revelled in it.

And then John was gone.


	4. Chapter Four

Sherlock had to wait for more than two hours and became very, very nervous on that chair. He was cold and he couldn't move.

Finally, the weird doctor came back to him and a nurse was by his side. She wore a collar and didn't speak. She checked his pulse and blood pressure and attached pads with cables to his chest.

“So, you are the infamous Sherlock Holmes. I thought you would look different. But probably you did before you met good old Johnny.” He shook his head and quietly laughed. Sherlock swallowed and wondered how this man knew his dom.

“I bet he didn't tell you what is going to happen here? Only that it would hurt?” He smirked and barked the order for the hypodermic needle. He was handed a stainless-steel tray. Sherlock could see all this because the seat was halfway up and both the doctor and his nurse were moving through his field of vision.

“I am going to fill your thin face up a bit. Botox, you know? You will look so much better afterwards. A bit into the forehead and beneath your way too prominent cheekbones will do wonders to you. And it will hurt, so we better use this.” He held up a medical gag and since Sherlock had been told to behave and be good, he opened his mouth. The rubber gag was shoved between his teeth and the doctor pressed on the rubber so his lips got sucked into the vacuum. Now his mouth was efficiently sealed.  
Two fingers closed around his jaw and tried to move his head. And it did move a bit. He shook his head.

“No, this is not enough. Get me the strap, nurse.” She handed over another medical strap that was put below his chin and led back up. His head was forced back and upwards. Now he was completely immobile.

“That's better. We don't want to damage some nerves in your pretty face, do we?” He smiled. Sherlock was scared. He had heard about Botox but never intended to use it. Why would he anyway?

Suddenly the long needle appeared before his eyes and he started to pant from behind the gag. He tried to move his head but couldn't.

“Shh, relax. You can't escape this.” The needle pierced through his skin and it hurt like fuck. Tears streamed from his eyes without a break. Snot ran out of his nose. From time to time it got wiped away by the nurse while the doctor injected the Botox into his forehead and both his cheeks.

Sherlock had screamed a lot and after he had lost a few drops of urine, they had put a catheter into him. This had hurt, as well.

He longed for his dom to come back. He needed him so badly, needed him by his side. And he kept crying until the doctor was done. They left him on that chair with the gag and the catheter until John returned.

Sherlock had no idea how long he had been treated in here when his dom's flat hand landed on his stomach.

“I am back, slut. Aren't you happy to see me?” John asked stepping closer so Sherlock could see him. He looked desperate and tried to mumble a reply from behind the gag. John raised a brow.

“Did it hurt? Was it bad? Did you behave?” His eyes roamed over his face but he seemed to be pleased with what he saw there because he looked very, very pleased.

“Yes to all of this, Johnny.” The doctor stood by his dom's side.

“Very good, Ralphie. This is so much better already.”

“Use this on the few bruises. They will fade after two days. For the implants you need to come back but I took all the information already, so you won't have to wait long. He will need to stay in bed for a bit after that but I am sure we can arrange that in here if you like.” John slowly nodded.

“Yes, that would be better. I don't want to risk an infection.” Now they both nodded and Sherlock was scared by that bit of information. What implants? What was John up to? He hectically panted.

“He is ready to go. Would you like a drink before you leave?” John grinned.

“Hell, yes. I could use a drink.” Then he locked eyes with his sub again. He slowly pulled out a heavy plug.

“Of course, I don't want you to get bored while waiting a bit longer. But you know I am just a few rooms away. I will pick you up later. In the meantime, you may relax and think about how proud I am right now.” Sherlock instantly relaxed and John used the moment to shove the plug into him. Sherlock groaned. He always was sore inside and tears threatened to spill again.

“Enjoy this while I am gone!” John pulled out the catheter and shoved a vibrating penis-plug into the slit. Both things vibrated in a low rhythm and it would drive him mad. Very slowly.

“You mean bugger!” Ralph exclaimed but laughed. They left the room and Sherlock was alone. His face hurt and his spine tingled. He was hard and aroused. Was this a reward? If John stayed away longer, he would suffer from dry orgasms and they were bad, very bad.

John and his old friend spent about two hours with each other and several drinks. Sherlock was very thirsty and hungry. He also felt a bit dizzy already. He had come several times and was still tormented. He was in pain again, so much pain.

Suddenly John stood by his side again.

“I see you enjoyed yourself. Nice! I will enjoy you when we are back home.” He smirked and pulled out both the plugs. Sherlock relaxed a bit. Then John also took off all the restraints and pulled him up. Sherlock couldn't but groan.

“Stand but lean against the chair.” He ordered and Sherlock did exactly that. The plug still stuck inside his mouth. John dressed him into a tracksuit, socks, and sneakers. John reached up and turned a piece of the rubber gag. The vacuum was gone and John pulled it from his lips. It plopped and John stared at his swollen lips. Then he looked at the gag and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Come on, we are going home.” Sherlock just followed his dom outside and into the car. He slumped on the seat and John buckled him in. His head lolled against the headrest and his eyes fluttered close. John left him alone until he parked between the houses.

“There we are. I can't wait to properly look at your improved face, slut.” John still sounded pleased and Sherlock thought that was a good sign. He wasn't angry and if perhaps he behaved good enough, he would feed him soon.

Sherlock stumbled up the stairs being pulled by his dom. He pulled him directly into the little kitchen and pushed him onto a chair.

“Stay!” He ordered but Sherlock had no intention to do anything but. His head hung low and he just waited for his dom to do something, hopefully, feed him.

“I believe you must be hungry after all of today?” There was his dom standing in front of him. Sherlock's head came up and he spread his legs.

“Yes, Master.” John moved between them and palmed his face. Carefully he moved his fingertips over the injection points.

“I will feed you now, literally, and for my pleasure. Afterwards I will take care of your face and you may rest.” He reached out for something from behind Sherlock and it was a mask.

He was pliable when his dom pulled it over his head. He laced it up tightly after having pulled it to the perfect fit. Paddings were over his ears and everything became quiet. The heavy blindfold was tightened over his eyes and he was blind. At last came the force-feeding gag and Sherlock couldn't but groan.

His dom patted his head and tied him to the chair until he wasn't able to move a limb. His ankles were pulled back and his wrists met behind the chair. The wood stuck into his flesh and it was extremely uncomfortable. His collar was attached to the back of the chair, as well. He was made immobile again.

Sherlock wouldn't know what his dom sent through the gag. But for sure it wasn't proper food. Just mushy things and water probably. But he would get fed and he was thankful.

Suddenly there was water coming through. Sherlock swallowed and swallowed. It made him feel better at once. Next came something mushy and it tasted like nothing but Sherlock swallowed it down, as well. It was quite a lot and he almost choked. Again, water was coming and he felt his stomach being filled. It made him want to sleep.

It was over after the last water being given to him. John took off the mask and Sherlock blinked into the light.

“You have been very good today and you made me very proud. I am convinced you are an excellent sub by now.” Sherlock couldn't believe his ears and carefully looked up at him. John palmed his face and looked at him. He actually looked at his still swollen lips. He got turned on by the look of it a lot and now he kissed them.

Sherlock was still tied to the chair and couldn't believe what happened right now. He quietly moaned and enjoyed the kisses.

John took off the ropes a few minutes later and led him into the bedroom. Again, he was allowed in here and Sherlock was so thankful. His eyes watered again when he waited for his dom's orders.

“Get into bed and sleep. If you need the loo, you are allowed to go. I will be in the living room and work. I will talk to you later. Now go!” He ordered and Sherlock quickly climbed into bed. He still wore the trackpants and sweater. He would be warm and also covered by a blanket. Carefully he pulled it up.

He wondered about restraints and plugs but John simply left and closed the door. Sherlock sighed very quietly and closed his eyes. He was gone in seconds.


	5. Chapter Five

A few days passed and John mostly left his sub alone. He took care of treating the bruises on his face and regularly fed him. Sometimes Sherlock had to go back into the cage and sometimes he was allowed back into bed. He couldn't recognize a pattern but he was happy for the good times.

One evening he knelt in front of his dom with his hands tied on his lower back. A heavy leather blindfold covered his eyes and he gave him the perfect blow-job. John was talking to him during it.

“You are the perfect slut, my personal cock-slut. But I haven't enjoyed you properly for a long time now. I think I have to up the ante a bit again. You have been pampered a lot during the last few days and I think a good reminder is due. Just know, you haven't done anything wrong. I simply want to remind you of what you are.”

Sherlock kept sucking and licking while listening. He knew something nasty was coming up for him. But he was used to so many things, he would cope. He would show his dom how good he was and make him proud again.

He sucked harder and swallowed around the thick head touching down his throat. He couldn't breathe properly and waited for his dom to come down his throat. He swallowed everything and deeply inhaled when his dom pulled out.

“That was very, very good, bitch. Keep your position.” He heard him walk away.

“Yes, Master.” He kept kneeling straight up with his legs spread. He returned and stood behind him forcing the rubber gag back between his teeth and on his mouth. Sherlock felt his lips sucked into the thing.

“Listen to me now. I want to do something new tonight. We will go to a club and I will perform on stage; with you as my submissive. I know you are ready to show the world who you are, what you are. You have lately shown me how good you are, how much you can bear and how well you behave for me.”

Sherlock still was captured in the dark and now he became scared. He had to go on stage with his dom? Why did he do this to him? It was worse than every predicament he could have graced him with. He started to panic and wildly shook his head while he tried to beg but couldn't. He started to tear his wrists out of the ropes. And finally, he tried to get up.

John had been watching his struggles and wondered how far he would go. The moment he was halfway up he kicked him into the back. Sherlock shouted out in pain but was muted by the cruel medical gag. He crashed on the hardwood and groaned. But he didn't give up yet and surprised John. He got his knees under himself and came up again. The blindfold was still on and so were the ropes around his wrists, but they had gotten loose.

Sherlock stumbled a few steps through the room until he bumped against a wall. He used it to rub off the blindfold and now John was almost shocked. He had never witnessed such behaviour. He had had panicked subs but not like this. He slowly followed Sherlock and let him do what he needed. And then he would punish him.

In the meantime, Sherlock had managed to get the blindfold off his eyes. The ropes also were almost off and he kept pulling some more. Finally, they fell and his shaking arms came up to pull off the gag. He threw it away as far as he could. Then his wild eyes fell on his advancing dom and he slanted his eyes. He widened his stance.

“I would have done anything for you! Anything! But you once promised! We have a contract! I will not do it!” He panted and lifted his arms to defend himself.

“You will do anything for me! Absolutely anything! And of course, I promised to make you behave and lure you in, you stupid cunt!” His dom yelled up into his face standing in front of him. Now Sherlock screamed and pushed against his chest. But John was a trained close combat fighter and he took his wrists and pulled. Sherlock was forced forward and a fist hit his side. He felt sick and groaned but he kept standing. He only stumbled a few steps away.

Now his dom did a round kick and hit him flat on the chest. Sherlock couldn't breathe anymore and flew backwards. He fell on the sofa but hit the backrest. The force from the kick made him fall back over it and he landed on the ground. He tried to get up again but John was too fast. He quickly approached and reached out and took a lot of hair. He slung it around his wrist and pulled him into the bath. Sherlock's hands were trying to pry off his fingers but he didn't make it. Instead he pulled against his dom and lost quite a bit of hair in the process.

John didn't mind and kept pulling. He opened the faucet and filled up the tub with cold water. Sherlock still kicked around and fought him but to no avail. His dom forced his slim body over the edge. He held one arm tight on his back and the other folded over his neck. He stood with his legs widely spread over his body and forced his head down.

Sherlock saw the water coming closer and knew he had lost. He had lost everything. He still struggled but his dom's hold on him was too strong.

Soon his head was below the water and his dom kept holding him down. The moment he opened his mouth and gave up, he pulled him out. He repeated this until Sherlock's body became limp and the world was all black.

***

John had enjoyed the blow job his sub had given him. He had trained him so well; it was a real pleasure. He told him what was coming up and then watched him faint on the ground. He raised a brow and once kicked his body but he didn't move. He knelt by his side and took off the blindfold. His sub's eyes were closed and he was unconscious. He untied his wrists and felt his pulse. Low but just fine. His fingers lifted up his eye-lid; he was gone. He also removed the rubber gag from his mouth to let him breathe freely.

John shook his head. Had his plans done this to him? He had to cancel his plans if this was the reaction. He couldn't risk to be ashamed on stage with a fainting sub.

He had to punish him though. This was unacceptable behaviour John couldn't ignore. He lowered himself into a cross-legged position by his sub's side and waited for him to wake up again. In the meantime, he would think about the consequences. They would be dire, very much so.


	6. Chapter Six

When Sherlock woke, he shot up and panted. He wildly looked around. Then his eyes met his dom's who just glared at him. He gingerly touched his hair and it was dry. He lifted his arms and his wrists weren't bruised or even sore. He swallowed. He could still taste his dom inside.

And then he remembered what his dom had told him and how he had fought. But he obviously hadn't. He had dreamed all of this. But he had in fact panicked and behaved shamefully. He had disappointed his dom and it would have consequences. Perhaps he should try and appease him?

He assumed position and cast his eyes. His dom got up but still didn't speak to him. He didn't even yell at him.

“Permission to speak, Master?” He trod very carefully.

“Denied, slut. Just get up and quickly move into the playroom. Now!” He spoke dangerously low and Sherlock quickly obeyed.

Upstairs he was tied to the big St. Andrew's cross facing the wall. He wore a tight rubber mask and his longish hair was pulled out at the top and connected to a hook in the wall. This way his head was forced up and back, so he couldn't shake or move it. A pumped-up butterfly gag filled his mouth. The tube dangled down from his covered mouth.

He knew what was coming up for him. His dom would whip him with different implements, such as a paddle, a flogger, a riding-crop, and the most horrible dragon kiss whip. That was what he could think of but perhaps it would even be worse.

Suddenly it started and it wasn't a paddle. He could have borne the paddle; even the flogger. But this was a bull-whip that crashed down on his back and he screamed. The pain was extreme and he got whipped without a break.

Then it stopped. Sherlock panted under his mask and could barely breathe because of the pain and his clogged nose. His dom's finger poked into the welts and he weakly screamed. He knew this wasn't over yet.

And right he was because he got turned around and now faced the room. The mask stayed on and he still couldn't see what his dom was up to. He tried to listen but there were no noises coming through the thick rubber.

His back hurt where his flesh touched the wooden cross behind him. His hair had been pulled up again to another hook behind him.

After a few minutes, it could have been half an hour even, John's fingers were fumbling with his nipple. First, the right followed by the left. They were pulled and Sherlock groaned. And they got connected to the Prince Albert. His cock was forced up and then some more. The strain was extremely painful and he panted. It was a constant pain that pulsed through his cock and even made his spine hurt.

But it wasn't everything his dom dished out. He attached several clamps to his prick and the pain increased. Sherlock didn't think it was possible to feel more pain down there but it was.

It became worse when his dom inserted a stainless-steel rod into his penis. Sherlock knew he only owned electric rods and he started to shake and tremble. He imagined he could hear his cruel laughter but of course, this wasn't possible.

The first waves rode through his dick and it was almost nice. Soon enough though they became stronger and hence mean and painful. The pulsing and throbbing was unbearable and Sherlock wailed. It didn't stop; his dom tormented him without a break. He tortured him until he was a whimpering mess hanging from the cross.

***

John looked at his slave whose fingers were twitching. He listened to his weak whimpering from behind the gag. He felt his pulse and found it very, very slow. He shook his head and stopped the electricity running through the rod. He pulled it out and twirled it between his fingers. Then he removed the mask and locked eyes with his sub.

“You know you deserved all this and more but I have shown you mercy. You will perform on that stage and you will perform without a flaw. You will not scream. You will not twitch. You will show the utmost obedience. You will do everything I ask for. Am I understood?”

Sherlock had heard his words but he was still stubborn. He had survived the torture just now and he would also survive the next. If he died, he died. But he would not perform on a stage in front of other people. And he shook his head.

He saw a quite surprised looking dom who soon enough became very angry. But he didn't whip him anymore and he didn't shock him anymore. Instead he simply left the room and Sherlock stayed behind still tethered to the cross.

***

Downstairs John poured himself a drink and then another. He was beyond angry and if he wouldn't stop now, he might kill his sub, the stupid, stubborn bitch.

He needed to think of something else to finally break him and he suddenly had a bright idea. He wickedly grinned and downed his drink. He sat at the desk in the bedroom and pulled up the computer. He ordered several items and after a while shut it down again being very, very pleased with himself.

He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He got one of the meals Sherlock had cooked in advance and put it into the microwave. It tasted great; his sub was a damn good cook. He finished it and put the plate and such into the dishwasher. He opened a bottle of red wine and started a fire. He sat on the sofa with his legs pulled under.

He knew he had to feed him soon. But he wanted him weak. He wanted him to whimper and wail in front of him. He wanted him to sway on his knees and cry while he fucked his mouth. And while he would fuck his throat, he would tell him what he intended to do to him. He smirked.

He would earn tons of money with him. He wouldn't only be his slave and fuck-toy, he would be his money-machine, his cash-cow.


	7. Chapter Seven

Sherlock's body wasn't moving when his dom took him off the cross and dumped him on the hardwood. He didn't even make a sound when he hit the ground. But he wasn't unconscious. He blearily blinked when he looked at his dom.

John lowered his body towards him and now his eyes widened. He was scared which was good. He dragged him into the cage and closed it. He wasn't bound, gagged, or even plugged. He was just naked, bloody, dirty, hungry, and thirsty.

His dom filled the two plastic crocks attached to the cage with both water and a few cookies. With shaking hands Sherlock reached out and wanted to take a cookie but John hit flat-handed on the cage and made it rattle. Sherlock at once pulled his hand back. John gestured with his hand and Sherlock understood very well. He shoved both his hands through the bars and his cuffs got connected with the cage. His mouth though could still reach the crocks. His dom smirked and nodded. Sherlock weakly leant against the bars and very slowly drank and ate. All the time watched by his dom. He still didn't say anything and Sherlock wondered what he was up to. He should find out soon enough.

He fell asleep soon after his meagre meal and John left him behind. Downstairs he prepared the bedroom for his plans. He removed all the furniture except for the bed that he strapped bare only leaving the mattress. The only other things that stayed were the curtains. Every piece of decor such as the table of elements got stacked into a corner of the living room. John would get rid of everything later.

Now he had no bed to sleep in but he would sleep on the sofa for a few days. He already had ordered a new sofa that could be turned into a comfortable bed. Later he would be looking for another place to live in, a bigger place.

Next, he added some hooks to the bed and the hardwood like he had in the playroom. A few more came into the wall and ceiling. He was a bit sweaty afterwards but he was done. Very pleased he looked around once more. He was ready and checked the time. It was morning already and he wasn't tired at all. Quite the opposite, in fact, he was wide awake and very excited.

He had a shower and dressed in fresh clothes. Then he brewed coffee and had breakfast. He leant back into the chair and rubbed languidly over his groin. He sighed looking upstairs where he knew his sub sat in the cage.

Today was the day. The day on which he would finally break him and make him really useful.

***

The goods John had ordered the night before arrived around noon. Several crates were delivered and carried up right into the flat. He tipped the guys and rubbed his hands. He opened one box after the other and carried everything into the bedroom.

After a few hours, he had assembled a small film studio. A lot of new equipment had been added such as a suspension system on the ceiling, a modern fucking-machine, and several sets of clothes. Now he could dress his sub up like his personal Barbie. He could make him into a maid, a dog, a pony, or a prisoner. He already had the things for baby-play, force-feeding and piss-play.

But he would make Sherlock carry these things in here from upstairs, no matter how long it took. But before he took the last item out of the package. He lifted it before his eyes and turned it in his hands. It was a stainless-steel collar that held a battery system and could send shocks into his spine up to his brain and down his whole body. It would fit snugly and when once closed it couldn't be opened except with a bolt cutter. John became hard once again and slowly walked upstairs.

The smell hit him. Sherlock had pissed and voided his bowls into the cage. John stood in front of him and looked disgusted.

“You are such an animal!” He loudly exclaimed shaking his head. Sherlock cast his eyes and felt all the humiliation. John opened the door.

“Get out!” He barked and very slowly his sub crawled outside. He placed the collar on the rack and lifted up his hair.

“Hold it up so I can get to your neck.” He ordered and Sherlock obeyed. John removed the old and worn leather collar. Then he cleaned and disinfected his neck and finally placed the new collar around him. It fit perfectly and put good pressure on his throat. 

Sherlock could feel the restraining item with every breath he took.

“Get downstairs into the bath. We need to clean you up properly.” Sherlock was actually glad he was allowed a shower and moved as quickly as he could. He got shoved into the shower stall and John watched him all the time. He found new shower-gel and shampoo. There even was conditioner for the long hair he wore by now.

He even felt better and woke up completely. The burning pain from the welts on his back kept him alert. He brushed his teeth under the shower and afterwards John applied some ointment on his welts and bruises.

“Kneel and assume position.” John ordered and Sherlock quickly knelt.

“I am giving you a last chance to appease me just a bit. You are allowed to speak to me now.” He stood in front of him and locked eyes with him.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Master. For the food you provided yesterday and for the shower and care-taking just now. I am thanking you for proper training to make me behave like the good submissive you want and desire, Master. But I cannot go on a stage. I never agreed to it and you have promised. No matter what you are doing to me, you won't be able to make me do that. I am sorry, Master.” John slowly nodded.

“I expected nothing else. I have taken precautions and changed my plans. You see, I understood. But I still don't like it. I don't like my sub being stubborn and misbehave. I want you to follow my every order, no matter what. So, if you don't want to perform on a stage with and for me, I just have to accept that, haven't I?” He pleasantly smiled but Sherlock didn't trust him. He couldn't trust him anymore. And now he had to wonder what was going to happen next.

“Hold your position right there, bitch.” Sherlock did exactly that while John left the bath. He soon returned with a set of stainless-steel cuffs for both ankles and wrists. They were padded on the inside and felt smooth on his skin. They were closed, too, and they also didn't have a lock. They were just like the new collar and John felt his arousal increase.

He hooked them together and also connected everything with a stainless-steel cross. Sherlock wouldn't be able to get up and fight him like this. He took a brush and straightened out his longish hair. Afterwards he braided it. Next came weights on his nipple-rings and a cage around his cock. This got followed by a penis-plug and a thick plug into his behind.

All of this were things he already knew and could stand. It didn't feel nice but it didn't cause too much pain.

“I want you to suck me off. Afterwards, we will do something new. You better be good now. Only if you behave properly, you may expect nothing too nasty.” He opened his trousers and stepped up.

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock murmured and opened up wide. He sucked and licked and his dom's massive cock invaded his mouth and soon his throat. Soon he wasn't able to perform anything because John just fucked his face and throat hard and fast. He came quickly and wild with his prick reaching down Sherlock's throat.

Afterwards, he looked at him and let him lick his dick clean. He put it back into his trousers and wiped Sherlock's face clean of any cum that was left there. Then he backhanded him hard and made his head fly to the side.

“Not as good as you used to be, cunt!” He yelled and took off the connection between wrists and ankles. He grabbed his braided hair and forced him to follow backwards. Sherlock's eyes started to water when he was moved into the bedroom and his eyes widened in shock. His bedroom was gone except for the bed and the curtains.

Out of wide eyes, he looked at his dom.

“Yes, slut. I have changed it a bit. But don't you worry.” He cruelly laughed.

“Master, please. I...” His dom held up a finger and Sherlock stopped at once.

“This will be your office from now on. You will be working for me and earn me a lot of money. It was all your decision, you know. You didn't want to perform on stage with and for me. Now you will perform at home in a much better way.” Sherlock was shocked. He had noted all the camera equipment, the different costumes and clothes, everything.

“And since I have to film this and also direct, I won't be able to treat you myself. Someone else will come here and do you.” John grinned when he saw his sub's face contort.

“No, please, Master. Please don't do this... Master, please?” Sherlock begged and begged but his dom simply shook his head.

“No, your chance is gone. Now you will suffer and know it is your fault entirely.” John pushed into his chest and he fell hard on the ground. The air was forced out of his lungs and he groaned. Quickly John connected the cuffs with each other again.

“The first session will be this afternoon. I am really looking forward to it. You will do splendidly.” Sherlock desperately looked up at his dom. He couldn't do that to him, could he?

“You may think about your situation for a while now.” He stuffed a piece of fabric deep into his mouth and pulled a nylon mask over his head. He wound tape around and over his mouth and then left him behind.

Sherlock rested his head on the hardwood and started to quietly cry. He should have known better than to anger and provoke his dom. Now he was lost forever.

His dom would have him raped in front of a camera. But not only raped but humiliated. He had seen what was in here, inside his former bedroom. He felt he had lost everything by now. He would never recover from this. He would suffer for a long time and could only hope for a few moments of peace and quiet.

And for the first time in months or even years he thought about his former life. He thought about his brother and his work. He thought of Lestrade. He even thought about Molly and _The Woman_. Actually, she had been the one who had started this. He had been curious after he had finished her case. He had asked John if he would like to try it and he had quickly agreed. Too quickly. But Sherlock hadn't been suspicious.

And today he had lost everything. This afternoon he would be stripped of the leftovers of his dignity.


	8. Chapter Eight

John came back a few minutes later and let him use the loo. He was given food and water and had to brush his teeth again. Then he was forced into a long billowing dress with wide straps over his shoulders. John made him sit on the bed and cuffed his wrists to the sides. His hair was pulled back making him almost immobile. He applied a lot of make-up. He held up a mirror and Sherlock almost cried. He looked definitely whorish.

“Oh, dear. Don't cry just yet. You will have enough reason to do later and destroy the pretty face of yours. It will look great on camera.” John grinned.

“You know what is going to happen in here soon. I want you to understand what will be done to you if you fight too much.” He held up a remote.

“This one sends shocks of different strengths through your collar. You will be in severe pain and convulse. You don't want that, do you, slut?” John raised a brow.

“No, Master.” Sherlock whispered. He really didn't want that but he also didn't want to be filmed and whored out.

“I can see there is still fight left in you. Some fighting in front of the camera will be appreciated for this film. You may fight, hit, kick, and lash out as much as you want. The final rape will be just wonderful!” He clapped his hands together and left the room.  
Sherlock pulled his arms and moved his head but wasn't able to move much. He had to sit here on his bed and wait for his ordeal to start. He wondered if he should give him a fight or just let it happen. But he knew he couldn't just simply lie there and let himself be raped. Raped by someone who wasn't his dom.

A few hours later the doorbell rang and someone entered 221B. He heard John speak and then another man. Both of them entered the room soon after and Sherlock looked up. He swallowed. He knew he stood no chance. The man was tall and had broad shoulders. He was muscled and had short-cropped blond hair and brown eyes. He wore tight jeans and an olive V-neck t-shirt. Under other circumstances, Sherlock would have found him very attractive.

“Such a beauty!” The man exclaimed with a wicked grin on his face looking Sherlock up and down. Then he turned back to John.

“And you are sure about it?” He asked. John nodded.

“Absolutely. Just go ahead. You have free reigns. You can use everything in here.” The man languidly stroked over his groin.

“Well, get behind the camera.” At first, he took off the restraints so Sherlock was free to move. He also made his hair fall down and it flowed down over his shoulders. He licked his lips and his eyes were on fire.

He pulled him up and shoved him into the middle of the room. Sherlock almost fell because of the high-heels John had forced on his feet but he managed. Soon the red light came on when the man started to circle him.

Suddenly he snatched his bony wrist and pulled him close. His arm was pulled up behind him and his body pressed against the man's. Sherlock tried to kick and bite but he only laughed. His free arm wildly moved when the man's lips closed over his mouth and his tongue invaded him. He fucked him with his tongue. He bit him and groped his behind. Sherlock felt his arousal.

His free hand lifted up the fabric of his dress and reached between his legs. Sherlock's breath hitched and he twisted in his grip. A large hand grabbed his cock and testicles at once and squeezed hard. Sherlock yelled out in pain while the man locked eyes with him. The order behind was quite clear and Sherlock stopped fidgeting.

After a few seconds, he got pushed away and stood free again. He panted. And the man spoke to him for the first time.

“Lift up your dress and turn around facing the bed.” Slowly Sherlock reached for the fabric and pulled it up. He turned and looked at the bed.

“Get closer and lower your body.” Sherlock did that, too. The man stood behind him and pushed his feet wide apart. John in the meantime had taken the camera off the tripod and stood beside them filming a close-up.

Two fingers hooked behind the laced hem of the panties and pulled them down his thighs. Large hands touched his cheeks and pulled them apart. He pressed his head down on the mattress.

“Keep your hands up and hold the fabric.” Only Sherlock's head was holding him balanced when his fingers clawed into the fabric.

“Turn your face towards the camera.” John didn't have to say these words because Sherlock knew what he wanted. Out of wide eyes, he stared up to the red light.

The moment his thumbs poked on his hole it was over. Sherlock started to fight.

He stomped his feet on the man's and made him shout out loud. He kicked and pushed himself up throwing his head back chinning him badly. But then his energy and strength were already used up and he panted wildly. He climbed on the bed and tried to crawl away. He actually tried to reach the window.

“No, no, no! You don't do that to me, you whorish little piece of shit!” The man yelled grabbing his ankles. He roughly pulled him back and now Sherlock started to scream.

The man threw him around and straddled him. He caught his wrists and held them down beside his head. Drops of blood fell down on Sherlock's face.

“You will so regret this, slut.” He threatened. He let go and backhanded him several times. It hurt and it shocked Sherlock and he started to cry. The bulge beneath his denims became extremely obscene and Sherlock saw he was even more massive than his dom. He would be torn and shredded from the inside. He cried some more.

The man pulled him off the bed and forced his thin body over the rack. He hooked his wrists and ankles to its legs and lifted his dress by himself. He used a length of rope to hold it in place and started to slap him hard.

John filmed everything.

He took Sherlock's hair and pulled it down towards a hook in the hardwood. Another rope led from his cock to the ground. Another from his balls.

He ripped off his laced panties and knelt by his head forcing them into his mouth. Sherlock groaned when a rope came around his head and was knotted off tight.

He still looked at the camera while tears fell freely. He saw that John was pleased with everything and it actually calmed him down a bit.

Then he heard the zip being pulled down and the body-heat emanating from the man. He heard him slick up his cock and then he felt him poke against his hole. And he was huge. He really was thicker than his dom. And he screamed the whole time while he forced his massive member into him. It hurt so much he had tunnel vision and felt very sick. But if he threw up, he would choke on his own vomit.

After a while flesh slapped on flesh and he fucked him.

“You feel like a bloody virgin, bitch. You are so tight.” He groaned and kept slapping him while he pushed faster and faster into him. He dished out no pleasure, he never touched his prostate. He just hurt him. He shot his load into him and quickly pulled out making it hurt a lot.

Sherlock sobbed and whimpered when cum mixed with blood gushed out of his behind. His insides were raw and he had felt no condom. This stranger had just raped him without a condom.

He almost didn't notice when he was taken off the rack and freed from his gag. He was pushed to the ground and fell hard.

John loomed above him and held the damn camera close. It caught the sight of his destroyed make-up. Due to the tears, the eye-shadow had run down. The lipstick was smeared all over mouth and chin. The black mascara had left streaks on his cheeks.

***

The man still glared at Sherlock. Then he looked at John who simply let the camera run while he handed over the remote for the collar.

From down below Sherlock recognised the remote and suddenly felt cold. He held up his hand.

“No, no, please, no...” His voice hitched and his lips quivered.

“This will be so much better than caning you.” And he pressed a button to see what would happen.

The pain was excruciating and Sherlock screamed out his pain. Soon he was hoarse and his muscles had cramped a lot. He only whimpered when the man let go and knelt by his side.

“This should make you pliable, slut. You may call me _Sir_ from now on.” He stared into his eyes.

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock croaked out his reply and the man grinned pulling him up. He got the dress off his thin body and now only a dark red corsage covered his body. Again, he hooked his wrists together.

“Kneel, slut.” Sherlock knelt. The man walked over to a closet John had pointed out earlier. He chose another pair of shoes, actually a pair of Louboutin’s. He forced them on his feet. They were tight around his flesh and they hurt him. They were also ridiculously high.

He lifted Sherlock up and made him sway on the shoes.

“Walk around and sway your hips, bitch.” Sherlock carefully made a few tiny steps but with his hands tied and the enormously high heels, he didn't make it far. He fell down and it hurt. He groaned.

“Come on, slut, you can do better or do you need an incentive?” He held up the remote. Sherlock didn't and carefully pulled his legs under. And he made it. He swayed through the room followed by the camera.

“Kneel!” He suddenly yelled and Sherlock instantly fell down. The man stepped up and so did John.

“I really don't trust you, slut. That's why I will use this.” He dangled a mouth spreader in front of him. It was stainless-steel and rather heavy. He forced it between his teeth and spread it open, wide open. Sherlock groaned and fresh tears spilt.

John zoomed in on his face and looked extremely pleased.

The man started to fuck his mouth while holding his hair. Sherlock gurgled when his palate was roughed up and his tongue pressed down. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't knock any teeth out but probably his jaw was wide enough to not do it.

Now he couldn't breathe and the fat cock stuck almost down his throat. Then he pulled out. The moves were repeated again and again while in-between he spit into his mouth.

Sherlock cried and whimpered. Tears and snot and saliva covered his face. He had no idea how long his ordeal lasted but suddenly his throat and mouth were filled with cum. He almost choked and the man pulled out shooting the last part all over his face and neck.

John zoomed in and finally lowered the camera.

***

John led the man out of the bedroom and offered him the bath and then a seat in the living room. He even served him a drink.

“I will be right with you.” He returned to his sub and cuffed his arms in the front. He hooked him up so he stood stretched out. The heels were still on his feet and the corsage still sat tight around his waist. A spreader-bar connected his ankles and was hooked to the floor.

His long legs were trembling and he was so cold. His head twitched when John reached up for the gag and he grinned wickedly. But he took it off.

“You should know that I am very, very pleased. You made me a very happy man today. By the way, the man is clean. He was checked before he came here.” John's eyes moved down to Sherlock's cock. It hung sadly between his legs.

“You have been neglected. Well, I promise you this. If you behave properly for one more session, I will pamper you tonight. What do you say?” Sherlock's jaw cracked when he moved it. He licked his dry lips.

“I will behave properly, Master. Thank you, Master.” His words were very raw and quiet.

“You will be given something to drink during your next scene. Just don't worry, OK?” John cruelly grinned and Sherlock just knew that something nasty was coming up for him. And right he was.

After the man had finished his drink he returned into the bedroom. He forced Sherlock into a special bondage-chair and strapped him to it. From down below a dildo was pushed up into his behind. Sherlock wailed because he hurt. He was sore and raw inside and fresh tears spilt. Finally, he was nailed to the chair and he felt stuffed again.

A head harness came next that got attached to the chair, too. A force-feeding gag followed and Sherlock knew what was happening to him. It was humiliating but it wouldn't hurt. That's why he didn't fight and stayed pliable.

The man poured water down the funnel, a lot of water. Sherlock almost greedily drank and knew he would pay the price later. But now he needed to drink the water. Soon it sloshed around his stomach but he felt much better.

The man took off the funnel and attached a tube that reached into his mouth. Down below he did something to his penis, too, but Sherlock couldn't see because his head was tied too far back. He felt some plastic though.

The man made a few steps back and leant against the cross. John walked around his submissive and once and again zoomed in.

Soon enough Sherlock felt the urgent need to piss. He fidgeted and only hurt himself. He sweated and knew what was to come. At least it was his own urine but he couldn't be sure if it wouldn't end with the man pissing into him to end this day.

Surely his dom had filmed enough to make several clips from the material.

“Do we just wait here until he has to let go, Dr Watson?” The man suddenly asked.

“No, we don't. There you go.” He threw him another remote and the man slowly came closer again. He pressed down and the fat dildo in Sherlock's behind started to rotate. Sherlock whimpered and started to cry again.

The man fiddled some more with the remote and the dildo started to push, as well. Sherlock groaned very quietly and his too-thin body trembled and shook as much as it could in its restraints.

He needed to get through this ordeal. His dom had promised to pamper him later if he behaved properly. So, when he felt the urge to piss, he simply pissed. He heard when his urine hit the plastic and filled it up. Soon it would run up the tube and flow into his mouth. He would drink it. He would have no choice but to drink his own piss and he could only hope that it was all over afterwards.

***

He barely noticed when he was left alone. He heard his dom talk to the man and they both laughed. Then it became quiet. He heard John use the bath and soon he came out dressed in comfy clothes. Sherlock relaxed just a little bit because this normally meant a session was over and done with.

He took him off the bondage-chair and almost gently carried him over to the bed. Sherlock groaned and his eyes were barely open. He tiredly blinked up at his dom and waited for something nice. But for now, his dom just towered above him.

Weakly, Sherlock lifted his arm needing him close. No matter what he had done to him, he simply needed him now.

And John smiled tilting his head. Then he sat on the bed and let him take his hand. Sherlock weakly grabbed it and closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Master...” His fingers twitched. His stomach rumbled but he didn't react to it. But John did.

“You must be hungry. I'll get you something but I want you clean before you sit down.” He pulled his hand away and started to get him out of the corsage. He also pulled the heels off his feet. There were blisters already and his feet hurt. He hurt everywhere. But it was getting better.

“Do you think you can manage a shower by yourself?” Sherlock blinked his eyes open and weakly nodded.

“Yes, Master. Just a few minutes...” He sounded hoarse and his hand fell down after another attempt of reaching out for his dom when John stood. His eyes followed him and he breathed several times inhaling deep to gather the strength to get up.

And he made it. He slumped into the bath and leant against the tiles in the shower stall. The water gushed down over his tormented body and he smiled. This felt so good. He also lifted his head and drank some of it. He washed his hair bent over because he couldn't lift his arms all the way. He hurt too much.

He cleaned his teeth and brushed his hair. He had nothing to dress into but wasn't used to it anyway. So, he just stepped outside. To his surprise, there were clothes on the bed laid out for him. He carefully checked the size but it was meant for him. He climbed into the trackpants and t-shirt. There was no underwear or socks but anyway.

He left his former bedroom and carefully stepped into the kitchen not knowing what his dom expected of him. But he had heard him and turned his head while stirring the meal he was preparing.

“You may sit.” He gestured towards the kitchen table.

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock carefully sat down to avoid putting too much pressure on his behind. He saw the table had already been set up. And it had been set up for two. His dom didn't want him to eat out of his bowl tonight. Sherlock was so thankful, he almost teared up.

He quietly sat with his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed until his dom acknowledged him again. He came over and placed the bowl with risotto on the table. He also brought bottles with both water and wine.

Sherlock didn't move or look up and John sat down.

“I see you have taken good care of yourself. I am very pleased with you. Your behaviour today was simply perfect. You soon will be the rising star. My pretty, private actor.” John pleasantly smiled and filled his plate for him.

“Eat, my dear.” It seemed there were no pet names in for him right now and Sherlock relaxed a bit more.

“Thank you, Master.” He slowly picked up the fork and knife and his hands shook a bit when he started to eat. John watched him for a bit but he kept eating without showing any sign of getting sick or distress. He poured water and wine and let him drink. Sherlock enjoyed what and when he could. He needed his strength. He was sure there would be more of these sessions coming up soon enough.

After he was done, he became extremely tired but it seemed that his dom wanted to talk to him some more.

“Look at me.” Softly spoken but Sherlock's head came up.

“You know, this whole ordeal is entirely your fault, don't you?” John stated.

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock quietly replied.

“But today you have made me very proud. Our visitor also has been very impressed and pleased with everything. You really have deserved a reward. You should know, that every time you behave like you did today, there will follow good times. Do you understand, pet?” John seriously asked.

“Yes, Master.” John seemed to be pleased and stood. At once, Sherlock stood too but he swayed on the spot. John came around the table and led him over to the sofa.

Sherlock was confused. This was almost too much. And when John handed him a glass of wine he was surprised.

“Come here.” He pulled him against his chest and held him.

“What about a bit of telly, hm, pet?” John whispered into his ear.

“As you wish, Master.” Sherlock's fingers wound around his dom's strong arm and enjoyed the bodily warmth emanating from his broad chest he rested against. He slowly finished his wine and John took the glass away. Sherlock relaxed and soon fell asleep to the blabbering coming from the telly. He felt his dom's heartbeat against his body and it lulled him towards the darkness.

John felt the moment his sub had fallen asleep. He pushed him up and off his body leaning him against the backrest. He was deep under and didn't even wake when John picked him up and carried him over into the studio.

He looked at his unmoving body. The hair was like a halo around his head and on the sheets. The stainless-steel cuffs peeked out from under the hems of his trackpants and the collar also shone from his neck.

John sighed. This was a dream having come true. He had his own personal slave. Now he even became a pornstar. He smirked. His guest had assured him that people would love this, him and his looks, his behaviour, just everything. John had signed a contract for several films today and he would do them all with Sherlock performing in them. There were several more scenes coming up for him soon.


	9. Chapter Nine

Several days passed and John left his submissive alone except for some bondage and the try-out of the suspension system. He let him recover and used some ointment to heal his sore behind and gum.

Sherlock was thankful and he did thank him. He was good. He behaved perfectly. But he also knew that another film was in order. He knew he couldn't prevent it. He just had to let it happen to avoid more pain than necessary. He didn't want to die. He wasn't yet desperate enough and he still loved his dom.

Come one morning, John seriously looked at him. Sherlock was on his knees looking up at him. His wrists were hooked on his lower back.

“Today we will do another shooting, pet. The same man will be back for you because he also is quite the star. Just like you, pet.”

“Yes, Master.”

“I know you will be good for me, won't you, pet?” John asked and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, Master. I will behave properly.”

“You will make me proud again, won't you, pet?” Another question.

“Yes, Master.” John placed his palm flat on his sub's head and smiled. Sherlock relaxed some more.

“Don't you want to know about today's agenda?” Sherlock wasn't sure what the proper answer was and his eyes just widened with a bit of panic. John felt good when seeing that.

“Well, I'll tell you anyway. You will be suspended from the ceiling with the help of some intricate bondage. He knows how to do that, I ensured it. He will fuck you like this, both front and back, with a gag and without. Followed by that, you will be allowed to relax while doing the baby-play. You know what that means. And finally, he will turn you into a pony just to show you off. You will be the most beautiful pony ever!” John rubbed his hands and Sherlock thought about the upcoming event. He could do it. He hadn't said anything about whips or such. So perhaps, if he behaved really good, there won't be any punishment. He just had to take the pain and accept it. Show the audience how much he enjoyed it, getting hard and perhaps even be allowed to come.

“Use the loo and clean up a bit. Stay naked and wait in the studio.”

“Yes, Master.” John gestured for him to get up and turn around. He opened the cuffs and Sherlock disappeared into the bath. He drank some more under the shower and arranged his hair. He also brushed his teeth again.

He walked into the studio and knelt on the hardwood. His hands were folded on his neck and his knees were properly apart.

He waited holding his position until he heard his voice from the living room. He swallowed. The door was opened and his dom entered the studio being followed by their guest. Sherlock didn't even know his actual name.

He quickly stepped up to him and locked eyes.

“I was looking forward to coming back here. You have been great and your dom is a very lucky man!” He grinned.

“Yes, Sir.” Sherlock remembered that he was to call him _Sir_ and he saw his eyes lighten up.

“He is just perfect!” Their guest exclaimed and the statement made John grin and he patted his head.

“I'll set up the camera, shall I?” He said and the man nodded. Today he was dressed in black leather trousers and a white button-down. But now he got rid of it and showed off his muscular chest and tattoos.

“You are ready to go.” John said and the man turned to look at Sherlock. His whole face and stance changed suddenly.

“Get up and come over here, slut.” Sherlock quickly stood and did what he wanted. He got turned and the man chose a length of rope. Soon Sherlock was tied up completely and stood only on one leg. John zoomed in when he got hoisted up and finally hung fully suspended from the rack.

The man took the remote and the system lifted him up. He slowly swung and so far, it was all fine. But Sherlock knew it wouldn't last.

He pulled a harness over his head and used his long hair to force his head back into the rope system. Attached to the harness was a ring-gag that forced his mouth wide open. He used some thinner rope to tether his balls to the hardwood without a strain just yet.

Saliva ran over his chin and dropped down. John zoomed in on his face and Sherlock knew he had to look into the camera. John actually gave him the thumbs-up and it helped Sherlock to calm down when the man hoisted him up some more. Now he stared directly at his groin.

“I want to see your tongue, bitch.” Sherlock stretched his tongue and wiggled it while John came closer holding the camera. The man opened his trousers and his massive cock sprung free. It almost touched his face but only almost. Sherlock stretched his neck and his scalp burnt.

The man reached up and held the ropes. He slowly pulled and pushed until his prick invaded Sherlock's mouth. Soon he gurgled and choked. He cried a lot because his testicles got pulled in the process, as well. The man actually never moved his hips, he just pulled and pushed Sherlock on and off until he spurted into him covering his face and head in the process.

This time he used a disinfectant tissue to clean his cock. John zoomed in on Sherlock's face and his eyes were wide open while cum ran over his high cheekbones.

The two men stood in front of him and talked about him as if he wasn't there.

“You suggested to do baby-play next?” He looked at John who nodded.

“Yes, he really looks so cute inside the crib covered by baby-clothes or simply an over-sized diaper holding a rattle.” He replied.

“I can imagine.”

“So, finish this scene and then we will proceed after a little break.” The man nodded his approval and turned fully towards Sherlock again.

He changed the gag into a rather large ball-gag, then lifted him even higher. He hooked a thin rope to his nipples and pulled them down to the ground. Another length of rope led from his Prince Albert down to another hook. He pressed another button on the remote and his legs were forced apart. Then he was lowered down again and he adjusted the ropes leading to his nipple-rings and groin.

The man stepped between his thighs and he was hard and erect again. He grabbed the ropes and started to swing him. Sherlock groaned but soon he screamed. He screamed even louder when the thick cock invaded his behind. He choked on his tears and snot but kept his eyes focused on the red dot.

The man ruthlessly fucked him until he came. He filled him up and used a plug to keep it inside. Sherlock panted and whimpered.

The man started to push and turn him. Sherlock became dizzy and felt sick. The pain was excruciating and he wailed while both his penis and testicles as well as his nipples were pulled strongly. His eyes were wide open and he was close to panicking.

Suddenly the movement stopped and the ropes were taken off.

“Won't you show me how much you enjoyed this, slut?” The man asked. Sherlock knew what was expected of him and he tried to concentrate on the few moments of happiness his dom had given him. And it worked, his cock became erect.

“Very good, bitch!” The man exclaimed and pressed the remote. The system pulled his body up so he almost knelt inside the ropes. His cock hovered in front of his body. The man reached out and pulled it. Soon Sherlock moaned. This felt nice, so nice. He clenched around the plug and his whole body trembled.

The man pulled his nipple-rings and his Prince Albert always alternating.

“Anytime you want, my little pornstar.” But Sherlock had been trained very thorough and he looked first at his dom for confirmation. He could hold back, no matter what that man did to him.

But his dom simply nodded and Sherlock carefully let go. His orgasm was strong and he limply hung in suspension afterwards.

John once circled him and then put the camera away. He was lowered back on the hardwood but stayed tied up. The gag was taken off though so he wouldn't choke. John patted his head and they left for a break and probably a drink.

Sherlock could hear them talk and laugh and he closed his eyes. His spine still tingled and he actually was rather thankful for having been allowed to orgasm. He revelled in the feeling that it had been a reward because of proper behaviour.

Today the second part would be baby-play. He could do that. It wasn't too bad. It only was dirty. His stomach would cramp but he wouldn't get beaten or fucked. It was humiliating though but he could manage easily.

A while later John returned without the man. He untied him and pulled him up on his legs. He looked him over.

“You are dirty. Go and clean up quickly. We soon want to start since we are having an agenda. Hurry!”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock did a quick wash and returned into the studio where his dom already held the baby-clothes. Sherlock got dressed up and this time he let his hair open. John once brushed it before he shoved a huge pacifier-gag into his mouth and buckled it with multi-coloured straps.

There wasn't a diaper covering his middle and Sherlock wondered about it. He also wasn't cuffed. He simply stood in the middle of the studio, naked and gagged.

Their guest returned and looked him over. He nodded and seemed to be pleased.

“You will follow his orders, baby-bitch.” John said and Sherlock nodded his head. The man still was bare-chested but now fully turned on him.

“Very good so far.” He looked at John again with a questioning look and he pointed towards the closet. The man walked over and pulled out a thick baby-blanket that he put on the hardwood.

“Sit down.” Sherlock sat on the blanket. The man handed him a rattle and a little stuffed animal. Sherlock gingerly took both and then just shook the rattle and threw the animal around picking it up again.

John filmed a few minutes when suddenly the man sat down, as well. Sherlock stilled but the man smiled. He reached out and pulled him on his lap always facing the camera.

He started to bounce him up and down and whispered into his ear.

“Just hold on to the toys you were given and look pretty.” Sherlock swallowed but kept shaking the rattle. He even went so far as to hold the stuffed animal towards the camera. John laughed, so it has been good.

His hand reached between his legs and started to pull his cock. He didn't hurt him. He was very gentle. Soon Sherlock was hard and erect and he panted behind the gag.

“Let me hear you, baby.” The man whispered into his ear. Sherlock moaned and shifted and fluttered his eyes.

Suddenly the man reached between his knees and lifted him up. His free hand opened his zip and his prick touched Sherlock's behind. Slowly he was lowered down and got breached. He groaned and shook the rattle.

“Does baby-bitch like it?” The man roughly asked. Sherlock nodded and the man laughed. John still looked very pleased. Sherlock was able to see the bulge beneath his jeans.

Then man started to bounce him again and Sherlock's cock started to leak while the man played with his nipple-rings.

John left the camera alone and walked outside. Sherlock could hear him cluttering in the kitchen and he soon returned holding a baby bottle. He threw it over and the man caught it mid-air. He placed it on the blanket and took off the gag. He adjusted Sherlock and pulled out in the process. He held him in his strong arms just like one would hold a baby to be fed. He held the bottle up and Sherlock opened his mouth. The nipple went between his lips and he instantly started to suck and drink. It was warm and some sort of watered porridge. Sherlock was convinced it held a laxative and he didn't wear a diaper. This was going to be a nasty business and he probably would be punished because he made their guest dirty.

He finished the bottle and he got hoisted up and pressed against his shoulder while he hit his back. Sherlock almost retched and burped. He was placed back on the blanket and only now the man was given a diaper by John. He palmed his cock beneath it and Sherlock moaned. A hamper followed and the gag came back on. Even a hat was put on his head.

In the meantime, John had set up the crib. The man carried him over and placed him inside. He cuffed his ankles and wrists to the bars. John filmed everything from different angles and then they waited for him to void and piss.

It didn't take long and the cramps started. It always was a horrid business but this time Sherlock didn't fight it anymore. He relaxed and filled the diaper moving his behind over the mattress. His head moved from side to side while he cried and looked up from time to time to find the red dot again.

***

Sherlock had been exhausted afterwards and must have fallen asleep. He came to when the water hit his groin. He was held up and under the shower with their guest. John was filming them under the shower. He must behave properly and at once became alert.  
He clung to the man's muscular arm and widened his stance.

“The slut has woken up. Just look at him!” The man pulled his head back and forced it under the water. It was a cruel move and it always felt like drowning. But he didn't fight him. He had to behave.

The ordeal was over quite soon and Sherlock remembered he was to be changed into a pony now. It was new to him and he wondered if it would hurt a lot. He never had been a pony; he only was a dog and once even a pig.

He was towelled dry and brought into the studio where the man dressed him into a leather harness. Boots with iron hooves followed that reached over his knees. They were heavy but the fit was perfect.

Little bells were attached to his nipple-rings. His arms were forced back by a mono-glove. A head-harness with an attached bit-gag followed. The bit was thick and pressed into his mouth. Blinders were attached, too. On top came a black feather.

“Bend over!” The man ordered and Sherlock did it. He pushed his legs apart and a massive plug was moved into his behind. Sherlock felt something brush against his legs and knew it was a tail. The thing got hooked to the harness.

“Move! Come on, _Black Beauty_! Make the bells jingle!” Sherlock moved through the studio and the man followed him with a thin cane. He hit the back of his knees and he pulled them up high. The plug started to vibrate and touched his prostate and his prick became erect. He hit his front and arse, his cock, and thighs. And Sherlock moved and moved.

He was sweaty and panted behind the bit. Saliva had run over his chin. Tears had left their traces and snot had dried on his face.

And finally, it was over. John had put the camera down and came over. The man let go of Sherlock whose long legs trembled. He hooked a leash to the head-harness and led him to the wall. He tethered him high up so he couldn't sit or even rest.

“You will wait just here. I will take care of you after I have sent our guest on his merry way.” Sherlock nodded his head. John followed their guest outside and closed the door. Sherlock relaxed just a little bit. It seemed his dom wasn't angry or upset. He must have been good enough for him. Perhaps he would allow him a nice evening. Sherlock really hoped for it, just like the one after their first scene had been.

He leant against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. But he stayed alert and listened to John's voice outside.

***

His dom returned after more than one hour and his breath smelled of whiskey. He untied him until he was naked again. At last, he took off the head-harness and the plug.

“You were very good today. Our guest was very impressed. And so am I. The first round has been a wide success and the second from today will be even better. I am very, very proud of you.” He palmed his face and looked at him.

Sherlock almost cried because of the tender words. His lips quivered.

“Thank you, Master.” He roughly whispered.

“I want you to take a bath now. You will find clothes afterwards and I want you to join me for dinner. Just like before, you know?”

“Yes, Master.” His dom shoved him off and he slumped into the bath. He filled the tub and added a bit of foam. He always enjoyed the smell. Carefully he climbed inside and lowered his body. The tub wasn't big enough but he didn't mind if his bony knees poked out. His face though was covered up to the nose and he simply loved it. He was thankful his dom let him indulge. He took it as the reward it was meant to be.

A while later he towelled himself dry and found the provided clothes on the bed. He became even more thankful and carefully dressed into trackpants and t-shirt. Today there were even socks. Perhaps, next time his dom might provide a sweater if he behaved properly.

Sherlock padded into the living room and followed the cluttering into the kitchen. John turned upon his arrival. His eyes roamed over his body and he smiled approvingly.

“There you are, pet. Set up the table, will you.” Quickly Sherlock obeyed.

“Yes, Master.” He was allowed to sit at the table again. With his dom. He felt happy and it must have shown on his face because John smirked behind his back. He had found the perfect way to handle his submissive, to get the urge to fight out of him.

Right after he was done, John brought their food. He had cooked pasta with a hearty cheese sauce.

“Sit down, pet. I will open a bottle.” He walked away again and Sherlock carefully sat with his hands folded in his lap and his head bowed.

John brought two glasses with the bottle and poured them wine before he sat. Then he shoved the bowl over.

“Eat, pet.” He looked stern and Sherlock filled his plate.

“Yes, Master.” But he waited until his dom had taken some, too. They ate in silence and sometimes Sherlock sipped from his glass. He cleaned his plate and lowered his hands back into his lap. He was still hungry though but he didn't dare to ask for more.

“I know you like some more, pet. Please, there is plenty enough. You need to eat, pet.” John's voice was low and soft and he had said _please_ again. Sherlock took a second helping and finished this, as well.

“Very good.” John took the plates into the kitchen and brought back ice-cream. Sherlock was really surprised. It was strawberry and chocolate, his favourite. He looked up at his dom.

“Thank you, Master.” His dom sat down again and Sherlock's long fingers curled around the bowl. He enjoyed every single bite and fully relaxed.

“Come on, I want to sit with you for a while.” John said after he had cleared away the dishes. He pointed towards the sofa and Sherlock quickly followed him. He found his place between his dom's legs and on his chest.  
John's strong arms came around his body and his fingers started to play with his nipples. Sherlock relaxed and closed his eyes.

“Pet, can you reach the remote for the telly?” Sherlock quickly opened his eyes again and looked at the table. And there was the remote.

“Yes, Master.” He reached out for it and lifted it up for his dom to take. He took it and brushed his hand. It shot right through Sherlock's body.

John grinned and knew he had him, had him forever. His submissive would do just anything for him. He would keep rewarding him every single time. He would pamper him after a day of shooting or having guests over.

Having guests over would be the next step. He would rent him out but at first only in here. He would make the studio into a brothel and his submissive into a whore.

But today he would pamper him, take him to bed and let him orgasm. Sherlock's cock was halfway up again already and the heat had crept up Sherlock's chest and face.

John quietly laughed.

“I am sorry, Master. You haven't asked for it. Please, forgive me, Master.” Sherlock begged from his position and started to shift.

“Stay!” He stilled instantly.

“You have done nothing wrong. Instead, you are showing me your love and devotion. I like that. It's all fine.” John whispered the words into his hear gently pulling his long hair away from his face and ear.

Sherlock was surprised and relaxed just a little bit.

“Thank you, Master. And I do love you so much...” He choked on the last word and tears spilt.

John had a lot to do not to burst into laughter. This was too good to be true. Instead, he stroked over his chest.

“Hush, pet. Don't cry. I believe a drink is in order.” He pushed him up and against the backrest. Sherlock wiped over his eyes and looked up.

John walked towards the bar and brought back a bottle of whiskey and two tumblers. He handed Sherlock his drink who took it. Then he sat down by his side again with one hand on his thigh.

“To my wonderful submissive!” The toast made Sherlock blush but he drank. He already had wine and now this, it made him quite a bit drunk very quickly. John topped up his drink and pulled him close.

“Why are you doing these things to me?” Sherlock slurred a while later having lost it almost completely.

“Because it makes you into the best submissive in the world, pet. You will be a fucking star!” John grinned. Sherlock hiccupped and then belched.

“I am sorry, Master...” He barely got out the words and his head fell back heavily. A few seconds later he started to snore and drool.

John pushed him off and left him on his side on the sofa. He stood and already planned the next event, the first rent-out.


	10. Chapter Ten

The next morning Sherlock woke on the sofa. After a few seconds, he remembered last night and shot up. He looked around for his dom and there he was. He approached him with a cup of coffee.

“There you are, pet.” He grinned and Sherlock fell on his knees.

“I am sorry, Master.” He lowered his head and folded his hands on his neck. John came closer.

“Don't be. It was me who made you drink too much. How do you feel? Do you need a pill?” John asked.

“No, Master. I am fine.” Sherlock replied.

“Very good. Take a shower and wake up. I want you to have breakfast with me in a few.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock stood a bit too quick and felt dizzy. He closed his eyes for a second and then carefully moved into the bath.

John grinned behind his back and finished his coffee. He had already prepared breakfast. Afterwards, he would tell him about the next day. He would explain everything and let him know about his first client.

He actually wondered how he would take it. Would he fight it again or simply accept his fate?

Sherlock returned clad in fresh clothes John had laid out for him.

“Sit down and eat. There is coffee, too.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” Sherlock was actually hungry but at first drank coffee. He also drank the orange juice. It made him feel a lot better.

“Do you remember what I said yesterday?” John asked all of a sudden. Sherlock tried to recall but only a few fragments appeared from the depths of his brain.

“Not really, Master. I am sorry.” He had to admit and felt bad at once.

“It's fine. You had a lot to drink. Well, I told you I would make you into the world's best submissive. That's why I have arranged the sessions with our guest. But now I want you to take the next step. You will receive guests. You will be a good host, serve them food and drinks. Then you will service them. No matter what they will ask of you, you will do it. I want you to do it.” John looked serious.

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock thought it hadn't sounded too bad.

“We will start tomorrow and your first appointment has already been made. Until then I have to do a few changes to the studio. You will wait upstairs in our playroom for the time being.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock knew his good times for today were over and he stood. John followed him upstairs where he cuffed him. He also put a stuffed gag behind his teeth and buckled it tight. The front covered his mouth completely.

“I don't want you to move too much.” He hooked him to several parts of the hardwood and also tethered his nipple-rings and Prince Albert to the ground. He shoved down his trackpants and chose a thick plug from the wardrobe.

Sherlock quietly groaned and John once slapped his cock. Then he held up the scary remote.

“You do remember this, don't you, slut?” Sherlock nodded and his eyes were wide with fear. John sent a single shock and the pain was severe.

“Behave!” He stood and switched on the plug. It pulsed and moved inside his behind and Sherlock crunched his eyes closed.

John left the room and soon Sherlock heard the hammering and moving from downstairs. He wondered what his dom was arranging down there while his prostate was tormented and his cock was hard as a rock. But he knew he wasn't allowed to come and he held back. He had been severely trained and his dom expected him to behave.

He would behave. He would make his dom proud. He would be the world's best submissive.

***

Sherlock endured the pulsing plug for hours and listened to the noises coming up from downstairs. He actually pissed on the hardwood and knew he would be punished later. He hadn't been able to control both, the need to pee and the urge to orgasm. He decided it was better to not come.

Many hours later Sherlock was exhausted. But he had also noticed that the noises had stopped. His dom was probably done. He heard the water run and then the steps on the stairs. He swallowed and looked at the door.

His dom entered the room and wrinkled his nose. It actually was sort of cute but then it wasn't.

“Oh, you little pig. You misbehaved. I am disappointed. You have held out longer. What's wrong with you, slut?” He shook his head and looked sad. Inside he roared with laughter because of the scared expression on his sub's face.

“I am done with the studio. Now I will explain what I expect from you when your appointment comes to see you tomorrow. Listen to me, bitch!” Sherlock's eyes were glued to his dom's face.

John leant against the bondage rack and crossed his strong arms over his chest. One leg was over the other and he looked completely relaxed.

“You will dress up nicely. Your suits have been changed so their fit will be perfect. You will be the perfect host, offer drinks and food and if needed serve them. There will be a menu with things to order, both food and drinks. The inside of the menu will hold different things to order, such as oral, anal, caning and so much more. Your guest will be happy to choose from that menu and you will do anything that is asked for.” John looked at him and raised a brow.

Sherlock made a sound from behind the gag that John was able to interpret as confirmation.

“Well, I will only be present at the beginning. I will accompany him into the drawing-room. Afterwards, I will leave you alone. But don't you worry because there will be cameras. I will always look out for you. No harm will come to you. Well, you know what I mean.” John pushed his body off the rack and used a knife to cut off the ropes.

“Now I need to punish you for pissing on the hardwood. Afterwards you will clean the floor and then yourself. When you are done, you will join me in the living room.” Sherlock nodded.

John cuffed his hands in the front and lifted his arms so Sherlock stood on his toes. A spreader-bar was hooked to both his ankles and the floor. The stuffed gag had been changed to a ball-gag. He pulled out the plug and Sherlock scrunched his eyes closed to avoid a noise. He knew that now his dom didn't want to hear him.

His dom took a riding-crop and hit the air with it. His other hand held the remote for his collar. Sherlock knew what it meant. If he became too loud, he would use it on him. He was scared of the device. It caused horrible pain and felt like his brain was melting.

John started to hit him. He would be bruised tomorrow and his body would show welts. He hit hard but Sherlock managed to be quiet. He was used to this and he also feared the collar too much. His teeth bit into the ball-gag and he actually thanked his dom for choosing a rubber ball-gag. He owned wooden and metal ones, too, so he probably would have lost several teeth in the process.

His dom dished out thirty strokes but didn't make him bleed. Sherlock was panting. He also cried and drooled.

John dropped the riding-crop and freed him. He fell on his knees and John threw the brush on the ground. There was a tiny bath up here and Sherlock knew what to do. His wrists stayed cuffed and the gag still forced his jaw open. He was in pain but he also had had much worse. He filled a bucket with water and soap and started to scrub the hardwood.

His dom watched him for a few seconds but finally left. Sherlock heard him hop down the stairs and relaxed a bit. He finished with a final polish and left the brush to dry. The bucket got stored away. Sherlock checked for the last time and found it good. He walked downstairs and found his dom in his armchair.

He quickly approached and knelt in front of him with his head bowed.

“There you are, slut. Hold up your hands.” Sherlock obeyed and was freed. At once his arms came up and his hands folded on their own on his neck.

“Now aren't you such a well-trained submissive!” John cooed and palmed his face. He also took the gag off and just dropped it.

“You are also quite a smelly submissive. Now go and clean up. Come back here afterwards because I want to have a look at your welts.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock got up and quickly disappeared into the bath. He quickly showered and also washed his hair. All naked he appeared in front of his dom again who simply pointed between his legs. Sherlock knew what he wanted and knelt between his thighs with his back on him.

At first, he took his long hair and piled it up on his head. An almost gentle push made him lower it. His dom took his arms and pulled them down from his neck so they hung by his side. His fingers started to move over his back and over the welts he had created. Sherlock bit his teeth and didn't let out a single sound. He managed to stay quiet even when John scratched over them or poked his finger into them.

“Such a good boy! Just for me, aren't you? Such a proper behaviour!” John murmured the praises and felt how his sub relaxed beneath him. Finally, he massaged some ointment into his back and it felt so good.

He finished by slapping his behind once.

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock whispered.

“Don't mention it, pet. Now get up and move. I have put clothes out for you. We are going to have dinner but tonight I want you to prepare it, set up the table and serve it to me. I want to see how you can manage.”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock hurried and entered his former bedroom, then studio and now... What was it now? It looked like a Victorian brothel. Red curtains, plush bedding, a lot of golden painted things as well as many pillows. Also, a small table with only one chair.

Sherlock found the clothes on the bed. It actually was one of his suits and he carefully touched the fabric. Then he quickly dressed. There wasn't any underwear but everything else was as it once had been. He wondered about his hair. His dom hadn't told him to do anything about it, so he just left it alone.

He walked into the kitchen and found all the supplies he was supposed to use on the counter. Obviously, his dom wanted him to prepare lamb, potatoes, and some greens. There also was an apron and Sherlock took it. It covered his front and he knotted it neatly with a bow on his back. He washed his hands before he started working.

All the time John watched him from his armchair pretending to work on his computer. Everything looked good so far. The moment when everything cooked and simmered, he set up the table. He used a table-cloth and linen napkins. He even chose a candle holder and filled the decanter. He had a last look and was pleased with himself.

He cleared his throat and looked over to his dom. Then he carefully approached him after having thought of removing the apron.

“Dinner will be served in a minute, Master. Please, take a seat, master.” He bowed and John stood following him over to the table. Sherlock pulled out the chair for him and let him sit. One arm on his back he filled his dom's glass.

John expectantly looked up at him and then at the table. Sherlock lit the candle and quickly brought the food. He arranged everything neatly on his dom's plate and made a step back. His hands were on his back and his head was bowed.

“Enjoy your meal, Master.” His dom started to eat and tried everything. He sipped the wine, too. But he didn't utter a single word. Sherlock became worried. But his dome ate and did even demand a second helping.

When his dom had finished, Sherlock stepped up again.

“Would you like a drink, Master?” John nodded and Sherlock quickly cleared the table and returned with a whiskey on a silver tray. He placed it in front of his dom.

“Enjoy your drink, Master.” He bowed and waited again. His dom had his drink and waved him back.

“Yes, Master? Would you like anything else, master?” Sherlock asked but his dom shook his head.

“I do hope you enjoyed your dinner, Master.” Sherlock politely said still bowing. John stood and moved up close.

“Yes, slut, I did so very much. You were perfect. The meal was great and tasty. Everything was neatly arranged. You were the perfect host and I am very proud of you.” Sherlock blushed.

“Now come here for dessert.” He opened his zip and Sherlock fell down on his knees. His dom leant over and hooked his cuffs on his lower back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of fabric blindfolding him.

He moved his massive cock over his sub's face and left pre-cum all over it. Sherlock didn't move away and instead opened up wide. John smirked and pushed inside. At once, he started to fuck his face hard. He managed not to tear the edges of his mouth but roughed up his gum and palate in the process.

Saliva and snot covered Sherlock's face as well as all the pre-cum. He gurgled but kept sucking when he could. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard making his dom groan and clawing into his hair.

He pushed deep into his throat and felt him swallow. He pulled out again and listened to the desperate panting and breathing. He enjoyed this a bit too much and wanted to extend the duration. He slowed down a bit and let his sub lick and suckle the head for a while.

He kept it that way and knew how much pain his sub was feeling. He must be exhausted by now and that was what John wanted. He wanted him to pull off, to give up. He wanted to have another reason to punish him. But his sub held out. Somehow, John was very impressed and finished the ordeal. He let go and filled his throat up. He quickly pulled out but at once covered both his mouth and nose. He saw him swallow. He also noticed the bulge beneath his dress-trousers. He smirked and used his knee to press against it.

Sherlock's body shook and he swallowed everything down while desperately needing to breathe. But he didn't fight his dom.

John let go and watched him fall to the side. His mouth stood open and he breathed hard and loud. John used his foot to put some more pressure on his prick. He slowly moved his foot over it and saw him shake and tremble.

He was convinced now that his submissive would behave perfectly tomorrow and he dished out a reward.

“You may come whenever you want, pet. Come for me. Show me how much you love me.” John whispered and almost in an instant his sub came and soiled his dress-trousers. Soon his groin was wet and it showed. He also panted strongly still being cuffed and blindfolded.

John loosened the cuffs and took off the fabric over his eyes. Sherlock blearily blinked and a stupid smile was on his face.

“Thank you, Master.” He croaked.

“I want you to rest now. You will need all your strength tomorrow.” He pulled him up and made him undress. He even cleaned him up and then took him into the bed.

Sherlock longingly looked up at his dom hoping he would join him.

“Not tonight, pet. I want you to sleep, remember? If I would join you, you wouldn't get any rest.” He grinned choosing a plug from the wardrobe.

“On your side, pet.” Sherlock quickly moved and pulled up a leg. John shoved the plug into his arse and pecked a kiss on his head.

“Sleep now.” He pulled up the blanket and left him completely without restraints.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” Sherlock whispered and watched his dom leave the room. Only now he started to think where he would sleep. This room hadn't been their bedroom for a long time. And he surely wouldn't spend the nights on the sofa.  
But Sherlock was too exhausted to mull it over. He quickly fell asleep knowing he would manage his first appointment tomorrow.

***

John let him sleep in because he wanted him to be alert. He woke all by himself and looking very much confused, he stumbled into the living room looking for his dom. He actually had become rather helpless without instructions for the day. John was rather pleased with himself and his handling.

“There you are, pet. Ready to face the day?” John waved him closer and at once he knelt in front of him assuming his position.

“Yes, Master.” His voice was still rough from sleep but he looked well. He must have slept.

“Your guest will arrive at 5 o'clock. She booked tea-time, then some fingering and licking followed by dinner and some bondage and sex for dessert.” Sherlock was frozen. His client was a woman? He never had had sex with a woman. What was he supposed to do?

Out of desperate eyes, he looked at his dom who simply smiled down at him.

“Oh, don't you worry, pet! You will manage. I happen to know how very talented your tongue is. You will have to improvise.” John smirked when he saw his eyes water.

“You will dress up nicely. She will love you in your suit. I will make up your hair. You will serve tiny sandwiches for tea. Then you will either undress her or shove up her skirt and service her. Make her orgasm, best make her come twice. Lick her clean and rearrange her clothes. Bring her something to read and start on dinner. She ordered a simple pie, so it shouldn't take too long. All the things you need are already here. After dinner you will clean the table and take her to bed. You will fuck her. She will fuck you with an electric strap-on. You will show her how much you like it. Are we quite clear?” His dom asked very seriously.

“Yes, Master, absolutely.” Sherlock was still scared but his dom put a lot of trust in him. He believed he could do it. That's why he knew he would do good this afternoon and night. He wouldn't embarrass his dom.

“Very good. Off you go and prepare our breakfast. You will join me at the table. Move, pet!” He waved him off and Sherlock quickly moved into the kitchen.

“No, pet! Wash up and get dressed at first!” His dom called out and Sherlock hurried to comply. John grinned. This was absolutely perfect. He would be a very rich man very soon. He would take everything Sherlock managed to earn for him. He would rent him out as long as he kept his good looks. He would probably need some operations in the process but that should be no problem. He would have to visit Ralphie anyway soon again.

***

Later that afternoon Sherlock had showered and now sat on a chair with his dom behind him. He was arranging his hair. Afterwards he dressed into one of his suits, shirt, and polished shoes. He had licked them clean earlier this day and now they looked perfect.

His dom looked him over and opened the first two buttons of his shirt and pulled it a bit apart. The shirt was one size too small and sat very tight over his chest. It actually was close to bursting if he breathed too hard. Also, his collar showed and John looked very pleased.

“Ten minutes to go, pet. You will wait in here. I will let her in. I will leave you alone. You know what to do. And I trust you. She paid a lot of money for you and you will please her, won't you, pet?” He locked eyes with him.

“Yes, Master. I will not disappoint you, Master.” Sherlock said and his dom left him behind in the bedroom.

He concentrated on his _mission_ ahead. He heard the door-bell and swallowed. He had never had sex with a woman. But his dom trusted him to do it, her, right. He swallowed again when he heard them approach. His dom opened the door and complimented her in. Now he was supposed to take over. And he moved to greet her.

***

His dom cast a last look over her shoulder and then closed the door from the outside. Sherlock focused on her. And she was indeed very beautiful. She wore a tight dress with wide shoulder straps in a dark blue shiny fabric. Her hair was a hazelnut brown and flew down to her shoulders in neat waves. She had tiny diamonds in her ears and wore a clutch. His dom had already taken her coat outside.

“Welcome, Mistress.” Sherlock greeted her politely and bowed.

“Such a wonderful boudoir, handsome.” She exclaimed looking him over and smiling.

“Thank you, Mistress. I will serve tea now, shall I?” Sherlock quietly suggested. She sauntered closer and reached out. Her fingers moved under his shirt and touched his naked chest. He swallowed. It was very sensual but it didn't do anything to him.  
She looked up and into his eyes. There was something in them, some sadness, Sherlock couldn't interpret.

“Start serving me then, handsome.” She sat down and expectantly looked at him. He actually liked that she didn't give him ugly names and he gave her a tiny smile.

“Yes, Mistress.” There was a hidden compartment behind a paravent and he quickly got the sandwiches. He switched the electric kettle on and brewed tea. But first he carried the sandwiches over. She picked one and delicately put it up to her mouth. He brought the tea, too, and stood there waiting.

“These were really good, handsome. Thank you so much. Now clean up and come closer.” She said looking up at him. He quickly took everything back behind the paravent and returned. She stood in front of him and took his wrist. She led his hand up and placed it on her left breast.

“Now do your wonders, handsome.” Sherlock swallowed.

“Of course, Mistress.” He was supposed to lick and finger her but he thought some stroking and kissing her nipples would be appreciated, too. That's why he slowly opened her blouse and found she wore no bra. He lowered his head and gently suckled her nipples. She closed her eyes and moaned.

His hands lifted up her skirt and shoved it over her hips. She wore a laced string and he reached between her legs. He had large hands and long fingers. He cupped her vulva at first and used some pressure. She pressed back against his hand and moaned some more.

One finger went beneath the fabric and found her clit pressing down and circling. She gasped and twitched once and soon Sherlock found it wasn't such a challenge to please her. Soon he had two fingers inside her and fucked her real quick. She hung in his arm and made loud noises. Finally, he pressed on her clit and she came screaming loudly.

Sherlock picked her up and carried her over to the bed. He got on his front and placed his head close to her. His hands went below her behind and lifted her up. His long hair covered her and she spread her legs and lifted them up.

He could smell her juices and very carefully poked his tongue between her folds. Her breath hitched and she pressed up. His tongue disappeared and his nose touched her clit. He sucked and licked and caressed her skin. He brought her to orgasm for a second time and then a third. His face was covered in her juices when he got up again.

She looked at him all pleased. He licked his lips and she quietly groaned shaking her head.

“Now you have made me really hungry. Go!” She waved him away and he got off the bed.

“Yes, Mistress.” He quickly went into the bath and cleaned up his face. He piled his hair up as his dom had shown him. He hurried into the kitchen and collected everything he needed for the pie.

Suddenly there was his dom.

“Hey, slut, how did it go?” He stood close and reached between his legs. At once he spread them while he swirled the ingredients together in a large bowl.

“My guest orgasmed three times and she looks very pleased, Master.” Sherlock replied.

“Very good, slut, very good.” His dom patted his behind and went back to sit in his armchair. He actually left him alone and Sherlock was a bit confused. He had expected more control, more questions, more anything.

The pie went into the oven and he poured wine into a decanter. He polished a glass and carried it over. He found her sitting on the bed leaning against the headrest. He handed her the wine. Then he set up the little table in the room and she watched him all the time sipping the wine.

“Come back here, my pretty!” She called when he was done. At once he hurried over and stood by the bed. She opened her arms and raised a brow. He climbed on the bed and straddled her. She took his head and pulled him close. Then she kissed him, invaded his mouth with her tongue. Again, he felt nothing. But it was nice enough because it didn't hurt. He knew he was supposed to please her, so he kissed her back. Soon she writhed beneath him and moaned into him. He massaged her breasts and fucked her mouth.

“I can barely wait until you fuck me...” She roughly whispered patting his cheek.

“Yes, Mistress.” He answered and left the room to check the pie. It was almost ready. He got a large plate and switched off the oven. His tongue moved over his teeth and lips and he still tasted her.

He served the pie and she sat down. She liked it and finished it off. She drank the wine and had a drink afterwards. Then she looked at him again.

“Now I want you to undress me and fuck me. Do me.” She roughly whispered.

“Yes, Mistress.” He left the table as it was and started to undress her. Soon she was naked and back on the bed.

“Get naked. I want to look at you properly.” Sherlock obeyed and neatly folded his clothes away and hung up the jacket and shirt. He stood by the bed and waited for more orders.

“Turn around.” He did and she saw all the scars and bruises that faded away slowly. She swallowed and her eyes darkened when he didn't look at her. Right then she decided to not do this. She couldn't just make this man fuck her. He didn't want it; she just knew it.

She moved off the bed and stood behind him. She slung her arms around his thin body and held him for a moment. He tensed and had no idea what to do.

She moaned and slid down leaning against him. She dropped on her knees and held her head.

“I feel sick...” She shook her head and he quickly turned around kneeling by her side. What was happening? Had he poisoned her with his cooking skills? He was convinced he had done nothing wrong. He chewed on his lips feeling her pulse but it seemed to be just fine. But her eyes fluttered and she sagged in his embrace.

“Master! Quick, please! I need your help! Please!” He called out. A few seconds later his dom dashed inside.

“What's wrong?” Then he saw her on the hardwood. His sub quickly stood wringing his hands.

“What happened?” John was a doctor and took over by instinct. He knelt by her other side.

“I don't know, Master. She said she felt sick and just fell down. Please, I ...” He started to cry.

“Get me a glass with water and my bag, pet. Move!” Sherlock hurried away not even acknowledging the order.

John lightly slapped her cheek and her eyes slowly came back to focus.

“Dr Watson, I am so sorry. Please, don't blame him. It's not his fault.” She whispered holding on to him.

“Do you feel any pain?” He asked feeling her pulse. But she shook her head.

“No, I simply feel sick and dizzy. I am sorry for the commotion. I'll better be going.” He helped her up and carried her back on the bed.

“Not just now. You need to have some water and I want to listen to your heart first. Please?” She just nodded. Sherlock had come back and held out the glass with water with a shaking hand. She took it and emptied it.

John quickly checked her and found her just fine. He made Sherlock sit on the chair and wait. The woman quickly went into the bath and freshened up.

When she came back out, she looked much better.

“I am really much better, Dr Watson. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” She smiled at him.

“Don't mention it. Please, I need your credit card for the refund.” But she shook her head.

“No, this isn't your or your sub's fault. Keep it, it's all fine.” She smiled and left. John grinned at her back and was absolutely pleased.

“Bitch, come out!” He called and Sherlock hurried to his side and fell to his knees assuming position.

“It seems you have done well. She didn't want a refund and you should know I am extremely pleased with you.”

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock was very surprised and it showed on his face.

“I will reward you later tonight. Now I am hungry. I have already ordered take-away and you may join me at the table. Shower and get dressed again.”

“Yes, master.”

***

After dinner John took his sub to bed and fucked him into oblivion.


	11. Chapter Eleven

She looked at her employee who had just returned from Baker Street. She was holding a cup of tea and her hands were still trembling. Her eyes swam in tears.

“You know I had to do it. I didn't want to be suspicious. But he was so hesitant. He also was very talented.” Both the women's smiles were a bit lopsided.

“But when I looked at his back, there were only scars and bruises. Fading, but clear. I mean...” She shook her head.

“I know what you mean, darling. Now go and rest. You have done nothing wrong. Quite the opposite. I know what to do now.” She stood and so did her employee. She pulled a tissue out of a box on the table and disappeared out of her rooms.

Only the moment the door had closed behind her, she allowed herself to close her eyes and sigh. She walked over to a window and looked over London. She had come back here for some business.

A few evenings before she had allowed herself to watch some porn because she wanted to be alone. Someone had recommended several new films and she had followed their advice. She thought they were just the porn she liked because it got recommended by a good friend and she just wanted to relax. That's why she was so very surprised to see Sherlock Holmes performing. She forgot everything about relaxing or anything.

Instead she had stared at every single scene and she was shocked. It was obvious he didn't want to do this. The doctor forced him. He must be behind it.

And _The Woman_ knew she had to act. She had to save Sherlock Holmes. Just as he had saved her back in Kabul.

***

She looked at the London night and rubbed her small hands over her tired face. God, how she hated Dr Watson. She had felt some dominance in him when they met in that warehouse but she never would have thought it would end like this.

She had also felt the submissive tendencies in Sherlock Holmes. She had liked him even though she was into women. He had fallen for John Watson and he had made him his submissive. Now he relied on his dom's praises, needed it like food and water. She believed Sherlock really loved John Watson. On his own, he wouldn't be able to fight him or even leave him. She felt the urge to help him. She must get rid of John Watson.

She straightened her body and looked at her watch. She got her mobile and checked her messages. There was a picture showing DCI Lestrade leaving Scotland Yard. The next showed him entering his home.

She nodded to herself and dressed into a coat. She took her purse and called for a cab. It was a risk she had to take. But somehow, she thought he would not arrest her after what she would tell him. He had been Sherlock's only friend except for John Watson.

The driver stopped in front of his place and she paid him. She opened the little door to the front garden and walked up the few steps to his door. She rang the bell and pleasantly smiled into the camera that was not hidden at all.

The door was ripped open and Gregory Lestrade stared down at her.

“What do you want here?” He even held a gun but didn't point it at her.

“Good evening to you too, DCI Lestrade.” She still smiled and when he didn't say or do anything, she simply stepped inside. He gaped at her and closed the door.

They stood in the semi-dark hall looking at each other. Greg actually sensed no danger and passed by her putting the gun behind the hem of his denims.

“So?” He just said gesturing for her to follow him into the living room. She delicately sat on an armchair and looked around. Suddenly he handed her a drink and she was surprised. She carefully sipped but found it good. She looked up at him. Big brown eyes looked back. He was such a handsome guy, probably bi.

“Well, this isn't easy.” She said and he just raised a brow. She put the tumbler on the table in front of her and pulled the DVD out of her purse.

“This is illegal porn. A certain someone is forced to appear in several scenes. We both know this certain someone. I need your help to get him out.” Greg was absolutely clueless and didn't make the connection.

“Could you please not talk in riddles, Miss Adler?” She worried her lips painted a ruby red and was still holding out the case.

“Dr Watson has made Sherlock into his submissive. They are a 24/7 BDSM couple but I believe Sherlock is suffering. He needs to be saved. He is forced to act in front of a camera. John Watson is selling these DVDs and he is also renting him out. I have all the proof you need. Sherlock Holmes is in an abusive relationship with Dr John Watson. I am asking for your help here, DCI Lestrade.”

Greg's eyes were huge and he finally sat down rubbing over his tired eyes. His eyes rested on the DVD.

“Are you sure?” He quietly asked.

“Absolutely.” She was dead serious. And she kept talking.

“We should talk to his brother. If he still feels a little something for his younger sibling, he might be of great assistance.” She finished her drink and he topped it up again pouring one for himself, as well.

“You would take the risk of meeting him again? I mean, we all thought you were dead. That you had been killed in Afghanistan by terrorists.” She smiled a bit lopsided and decided to trust him. The secret of her being alive was out in the open anyway.  
So, she told him everything. Greg was listening to her and when she was done, he shook his head smiling.

“Unbelievable, really.” He looked at her tilting his head.

“He did keep it a secret then, didn't he?” She said and he nodded.

“Yes, he even asked for your mobile after Myc closed your case.”

“You call him _Myc_?” She sounded surprised and he had the decency to blush.

“Yes?” He quickly sipped his drink and she laughed being very much amused. The sound of it almost made him choke.

“Are you in love with the _Ice Man_?” She sounded as if she couldn't believe anyone could be and Greg's features hardened.

“Let's change the topic back to the rescue of Sherlock Holmes, shall we?” Even his voice was cold and she thought he was just the right one. She had made the right decision coming here and she relaxed.

“Forgive me, DCI Lestrade. I didn't mean to mock you. I came here for your help.” Greg leant forward.

“How do you even know that John is renting him out?” She held his searching eyes and just stared back. Then she sighed.

“I sent one of my girls over.” She finally admitted and he downed his drink.

“What?” He shouted the one word and glared at her.

“She didn't have the actual sex with him. But she also couldn't raise suspicion. She faked some illness before it came to the real thing and left to tell me. She was shaken because of what she saw. She saw his naked body and she told me there were scars and bruises, both old and new.” She finished her drink and he topped it up.

“You are right. We need to rescue him. I will talk to Myc right away.” But she held out a hand.

“Not on the phone.” She insisted but he simply shook his head.

“Both our mobiles are secured. He ensured that. He will probably ask us to come over and see him.”

“I will not go back to his place. I will not go back to the place of my downfall.” She glared at him.

“You came here and wanted to save him. You will have to deal with it or forget about it.” Greg was dead serious.

She thought about it but not for very long until she nodded.

“You are right, of course. Call him. I will be your company.” She sipped from her drink and looked at him over the rim. Greg got his mobile out of his pocket and pushed the number for Mycroft Holmes private line. He answered quickly.

“Gregory, are you OK?” The cool voice asked.

“Yes, I am. You...” Greg got interrupted.

“What does she want? Did she hurt you? My security is already on the way to you!” He sounded worried.

“What? Myc, no! She came here because of Sherlock. Really, Myc, we need to talk to you really urgently.”

“Well, I don't want her in my home again. I am coming over to yours. Wait there. I will call my security off but they will come in when I am present.”

“Very well, Myc. And please hurry!” Greg hung up. Outside several cars stopped and she grinned.

“Still the control freak, is he?” She looked at Greg who just shrugged.

“Sort of?” But he grinned, too. Then they waited. About ten minutes later the door was opened and inside stepped Mycroft Holmes, dressed impeccably as always in a three-piece suit. His eyes lightened up when he saw Greg but his face darkened when his eyes came to look at _The Woman_.

With him were three hard-looking men. One of them had come first. Another one stood close by and the third one covered the rear.

“Well, here I am.” He looked at Gregory. At the same time, a small gesture signalled his security team to leave the room. They didn't look pleased but left.

“Miss Adler brought proof that Sherlock is in real danger. Please, tell him what you told me.” Now Mycroft did look at her. And she spoke about everything she knew and how she found out. Finally, she handed over the DVD. He hesitantly took it. It had no cover but Mycroft had seen these cases before.

“And I believed he just wanted to be left alone with his love.” He sadly shook his head looking at Gregory.

“That's what we all thought and believed. We actually wanted it to be true because he really deserved it. He still does. But what he didn't deserve is what happens to him right now.” Greg was angry and it showed.

“We will take him away. I will personally see to the capturing of Dr John Watson. He can't be underestimated. He is a soldier who has done many dark ops in the past. He is a close combat fighter and knows how to handle weapons. We must be careful.” Mycroft finally sat down beside Greg and was handed a tumbler.

“Dr Watson would surely allow you to see him if you called in? You could tell him it was because of some family problems, for instance, a testament or the money you are taking care of for him?” She carefully suggested.

“Dr Watson will always be greedy for more. These DVDs already made him rich. We must act quickly before he rents him out to someone who isn't sent by you.” Mycroft spoke.

“Perhaps it is less complicated if I will call and ask for Sherlock's assistance because of an old case he solved. There are always court sessions where some measures have to be taken, such as summoning witnesses or presenting evidence.” Both Mycroft and Irene Adler looked at him.

“Very good, DCI Lestrade. That's really more unsuspicious. What do you think, Mr Holmes?” She asked.

“I certainly agree. Can you do it tomorrow, Gregory?” Mycroft looked into his dark brown eyes and got lost in them.

“Yes, right away. First thing in the morning.”

“Am I safe to leave this place, Mr Holmes, or will your men throw themselves on me?” She stood and looked at him.

“You are safe, Miss Adler. You have my word. If we can safe my brother from the wicked hands of Dr Watson, I will be forever in your debt.” She smiled but shook her head.

“I am already repaying your brother.” She took her bag and gave them a final look.

“I will be hearing from you tomorrow, I assume? Until then. Have a good night!” She smirked turning around and left.

Both Mycroft and Greg looked at each other. Mycroft leant forward and kissed him with a passion that blew Greg's mind. Suddenly Greg's face became wet and he pushed him off looking at him.

“Hey, don't cry...” He held him tight but Mycroft shook his head.

“This is all my fault. I should have known better. Sherlock would never break contact completely. He would at least call to mock me or provoke me. But he did nothing of the sort. Nothing!” Now he was angry. He was going through the motions and Greg simply heard him out.

“All of us could have done better. We have failed him. But now we can do better and save him.” Greg took his hand. Mycroft looked down at their entwined fingers.

“I will need to think of what to do with him afterwards. He can't be left alone. I don't want to send him into an institution.”

“You mean madhouse, don't you?” They looked at each other. Mycroft carefully shrugged.

“He will need professional help after all what that insane man did to him.” His eyes moved over to the DVD that still sat on the coffee table.

“He will need his family after all that. That means you and I will take care of him.” Greg was dead serious and Mycroft sadly smiled.

“What would I do without you?” He sighed and lifted their hands to kiss his knuckles. Greg smiled.

“Nothing much, I suppose. Shall we watch it to become really angry?” He picked up the case and held it as if it would explode any second.

“Would you mind coming over to mine? It would calm down my security. It would calm down me. Please?” He quietly asked.

“Sure. Let me get my bag and jacket.” Greg planted a kiss on his forehead and stood. Mycroft smiled a bit dumbly but stood, too. He straightened his jacket and looked at the DVD.

Greg returned and turned the lights off. They left together joined by security. Mycroft's driver rode carefully but very fast through London and they reached Mycroft's townhouse very quickly. The butler took Greg's overnight-bag and Greg followed Mycroft into the study. He pulled off his shoes and sat down on the sofa pulling his legs under.

Mycroft poured them drinks while the DVD waited to be shown. They looked at each other and Greg swallowed.

“Come here, please.” He reached out for him and Mycroft sat down. They moved close together while watching the different scenes. Both men had considerably paled and Greg felt sick to the bones.

The moment the screen became dark again, he downed his drink in one go. So did Mycroft. They didn't speak for minutes until Mycroft threw his glass into the fire-place. It startled Greg because he had never seen him so emotional.

“I will personally kill him!” He yelled staring at the TV. Greg was shocked.

“Myc, please...” But he didn't come down. Instead, his fist hit the wall. Greg's eyes widened when blood covered the silky tapestry and also his hand.

“God, Myc! Stop it at once! You need to come down!” Now Greg yelled, too. Both men stared at each other. Mycroft panted but slowly his breathing became calm again and he cast his eyes. Then he saw his hand and pulled a face.

“Come here. I will take care of it.” Gently Greg took his arm and pulled him into their bath upstairs. The butler carefully looked out from the kitchen and so did security but they didn't follow when they saw Greg's hidden gesture.

Greg washed his hand and disinfected the knuckles. Skin was scraped off and he used ointment on them. Finally, he covered everything with a bandage.

“There you are. I will take care of your wall tomorrow.” Greg said pecking a kiss on his hand. Mycroft snorted.

“Nonsense. I have someone to do it. We have other things to do, remember?” He flexed his fingers and hissed.

“How could I ever forget?” Greg whispered binning the rubbish and storing the first-aid kit away.

“Have you had dinner tonight?” Mycroft asked out of the blue.

“No, I came home rather late and then _The Woman_ appeared.” Greg thoughtfully said rubbing over his non-existing stomach.

“Let's find a snack then, shall we? And a bottle.” They walked into the living room and the butler entered at once. Mycroft ordered a little bit of food and a bottle of wine. It was served soon and Greg almost inhaled the light pasta dish.

Finally, they were sipping the heavy wine and Mycroft put his feet beneath Greg's thigh. Sometimes he did that and it showed Greg how hurt and helpless he was.

“I will pick up a court file right away after having arrived at my office. There are plenty of them. Then I will go to Baker Street and ring the fucking doorbell.”

“Tell me what case you have chosen and I will cover everything should Dr Watson want to check.” They drank some more.

“Perhaps Sherlock won't be present, hidden away in another room and not being able to speak up.” Greg whispered.

“Or he had him trained well enough to appear by his dom's side and behave like the perfect sub he is.” Mycroft downed his wine and cupped it up right away.

“Meaning?” Greg asked.

“Meaning, he wouldn't speak by himself. Only if John allowed him to help, he will help. Actually, I don't think John will deny you because it is the police asking for Sherlock's assistance. He can't afford to hold him back.”

“I will tell them that I need him present at the Yard or even better at the court to be a witness and explain his solution.”

“But can you manage, Gregory? I mean, normally your face shows everything and I can always see when something isn't right.” Mycroft sounded worried.

“That's why I am letting my guard down with you, love. Tomorrow I will be my professional self. John Watson will be none the wiser and if you are right, Sherlock won't even look at me.” They had finished the bottle and by now Greg was almost falling asleep.

“God, I am dead tired...” He shook his head. Mycroft stood and took his glass.

“I can't possibly sleep. But I will come with you and hold you if that is fine.” He looked at him and Greg smiled a very tired smile.

“Why do you even have to ask?” They slowly walked upstairs and Greg disappeared first into the bath. He just shed his clothes and had a quick wash. He also brushed his teeth. He slumped towards the bed scratching his arms.

“Stop that, Gregory. You are always doing that when you are nervous.” Mycroft chided.

“Am I?” He shook his head and moved under the blanket. His eyes already drooped and he reached out for his mate.

“Sleep, Gregory. I am right here.” Mycroft whispered and Greg fell asleep.

***

The next morning Mycroft arranged breakfast in bed or more he had someone arrange it for Greg because he would never do such a thing. But he knew Greg enjoyed it and it would calm his frail nerves. Without Gregory knowing the bedding would be changed afterwards.

But now he cast a last look at him devouring the full English before he went through his morning routine. He had slept for maybe an hour, not more. But he was used to sleepless nights. Instead he had prepared a case file for Gregory showing all the things needed for court. He had managed to get a judge on the phone, several members of the High Court personnel as well as his own office. Everything was settled.

“I'll be in my office. Finish your breakfast and join me before you leave, please?” He stood by the bed and looked at Greg who looked back up holding his fork having just picked up a tomato.

“Sure thing. See you soon, love!” He grinned and Mycroft felt better at once.

Downstairs he opened his safe and took a gun. He prepared it for Gregory, just in case. This one had no serial number. He wanted him to take it along today when he went to Baker Street. Normally he wouldn't carry a gun but today Mycroft would ensure he would. He had even gone so far as to have a special holster made that wouldn't show beneath his jacket.

Now he sighed and turned the gun between his fingers. Back in his time, he had used many guns on many people. Now he had to sit behind a desk and leave the fight to others. The injury had forced him to step back. But he was alive, unlike others he had known.

“What's that?” Suddenly Gregory stood in front of his desk. He had come in and Mycroft hadn't even noticed. He had been lost in his past.

“You should know since you are a police officer.” Mycroft smiled but Greg just tilted his head.

“So?” He leant on the desk and just looked at him. Mycroft pushed over the gun.

“I want you to take it. It's for your safety. Please, Gregory? For me.” Greg looked into his eyes and saw the concern. And he hesitantly took it. He weighed it and checked if it was loaded. It wasn't yet but Mycroft reached into his desk and put a box with ammunition on the table.

“This is from your _office_ , I assume?” He shoved the clip inside and put the safety back on. Just as he wanted to put it behind the hem of his trousers, Mycroft presented the holster. Now Greg grinned.

“Can I keep this?” He slung it around his arms and shoulders and Mycroft found it extremely sexy. He wouldn't say so, of course.

“Surely not, Detective Inspector.” He hid behind a smile.

“Well, I'll be going _Die Hard_ on John Watson now. Be prepared to take care of the debris.” He grinned and straightened up. Mycroft looked clueless and Greg just shook his head.

“Where is the file you have worked on all night?” He asked and Mycroft shoved it over, too. Greg had a look and raised a brow.

“You are amazing...” They looked at each other for many long seconds.

“Be careful. Promise me, Gregory, please?” Mycroft stood and came around his desk.

“Promise.” They kissed until Greg broke it.

“I'll leave now. I'll call you when I have returned to the Yard, OK?” Greg had brought his shoulder-bag and stored the folder into it.

“Please, do.” Both men knew Mycroft would use the CCTV to watch as much as possible. But he would only be able to watch Baker Street from the outside because all the cameras inside had been removed by both Sherlock and Dr Watson.

They exchanged a last kiss and Greg left. He directly rode to Baker Street. He parked at the curb using the blue light and a special ID behind the wind-shield.

He tried the door downstairs and found it open. Without hesitation, he hurried up the seventeen stairs as he had always done. Upstairs he knocked and waited. He tried to listen inside but he heard nothing at all.


	12. Chapter Twelve

After two strong orgasms, Sherlock slept all through the night. He had no nightmares and felt warm and taken care of. His dom had been so good to him and he promised to himself he would behave. He would be good for him.

When he woke, his dom was still sleeping. Sherlock carefully watched him. He didn't dare to touch him though. He noticed the exact moment he woke.

“Come on, pet, wake me up properly...” He still had a rough voice from sleep and Sherlock quickly dove under the blanket to reach his cock. He found it was already halfway up. He opened his mouth wide and sucked. He heard his dom groan loudly and it pleased him, too.

Both his hands were on his side and not on his body. His hair covered his groin and other parts of him. He forced his head down and let him deep inside. He sucked and licked alternately and changed to his testicles and perineum.

John pushed into him and Sherlock gurgled but took it. He felt his balls pull up and pressed down. Then he waited holding his breath. His dome once yelled and then shot his load deep down his throat. Sherlock swallowed the whole load and gently pulled off cleaning the massive thing in the process.

He came back out from under the blanket and licked his lips. He sat on his heels on the bed and his dom pulled him down by his hair.

“Good morning, pet. You were perfect!” He praised with a smile and Sherlock melted.

“Thank you, Master. Good morning to you too. Would you like to have breakfast now, Master?”

“Yes, pet, I would. Full English. You may join me at the table. I feel generous today. Go!” He waved him off.

Sherlock dashed outside naked as he was. He washed his hands in the kitchen sink while he heard John shower and dress. He was so used to being naked, he didn't even wonder about it anymore.

John took over the simmering eggs and sent Sherlock into the bath. He had also laid out comfy clothes for him. He wanted him to feel good and taken care off. He can't feel anxious because his next appointment was up tomorrow. And it wouldn't be as nice and easy as the female from yesterday.

Sherlock returned and hurried up to him kneeling by his side. John fed him a piece of bacon and Sherlock sucked it from his fingers. Then he sucked his fingers. John grinned.

“Get up and sit with me. I want you to have breakfast with me.”

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock quickly moved over to the table but only sat after his dom. He waited until his plate was ready and his dom had started to eat. Only then he picked up his knife and fork and ate. And he enjoyed it.  
He had to be careful with his hair though because it was getting in the way and onto his food.

“Stop.” John suddenly said and stood. Sherlock stilled and didn't look up. Carefully he put down his fork and folded his hands in his lap. But his dom just stood behind him and gathered up his hair. He pulled it back and used a rubber-band he pulled from his pocket.

“Now isn't this much better, pet?” He once patted his head and sat back down. Sherlock relaxed again.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” It really was much better.

After breakfast, Sherlock cleaned the dishes, stored the left-overs away and also wiped clean all the surfaces. John was reading the paper.

Suddenly it knocked on their door. Sherlock tensed. Another customer already? His dom would have surely told him. He wasn't dressed for a session. He helplessly looked at him and found him looking just as clueless as himself.

“Come over here, pet.” John quietly said and Sherlock hurried to his side.

“Stay by my side. Do not kneel. Do not speak.” He knew he would obey. He had had such a proper training.

“Come in!” He called out loud and wondered who had come to see them.  
Perhaps it was just the woman who had decided she wanted a refund nonetheless. But inside stepped DI Lestrade. John raised a brow. Sherlock showed no emotion at all.

“Good morning, John, Sherlock.” Gregory nodded and pulled his shoulder-bag off. John relaxed. This was only because of Sherlock's work. It must be an old case and Greg had simply come to ask some questions.

John crept closer to Sherlock's side and poked his finger into his lower back. It meant he was allowed to talk to him and answer his questions. It also told him to behave normally.

“Good morning.” Both men said together.

“What can we do for you, Greg?” John asked.

“Would you like a coffee?” Sherlock asked. But Greg shook his head.

“No, but thanks for the offer, Sherlock.” He gave him a smile but then turned to John.

“I just need some answers and wanted to give you time and date for your witness account.” He turned his head between the two men and it seemed as if he spoke to both of them at once.

“Witness?” John asked.

“Yes, Sherlock needs to appear in court. He has solved this one and needs to explain his actions from before and after the arrest.”

“I see.” John didn't like it at all but he had no choice.

“Can I come along?” He asked and Greg grinned.

“You always do, don't you?” John grinned, too. This was just because of a case. There was no imminent danger.

“When does it take place then?” John asked and Greg handed him a piece of paper.

“I am afraid it is tomorrow already. At 9 o'clock sharp. Please, be on time?” He looked at Sherlock, too.

“I will. I am never late.” There was no emotion at all in his voice.

“Very well.” Greg smiled and turned back to John.

“May I use your bathroom?” He asked and John just nodded.

“Sure, you know your way around.”

“Thanks, mate.” Greg disappeared into the bath and John looked at his submissive.

“Very well done, pet. I am so proud of you.” He gently palmed his face and Sherlock felt his prick harden.

“Get that back under control. I will take care of it right after the moment Greg is gone, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock willed his erection to fade away while he longingly looked at his dom.

***

Inside the bath Greg quickly and quietly opened the door to the bedroom. His eyes widened when he found the former bedroom gone. All the details that had been simply Sherlock were gone. This was a brothel, a Victorian brothel, with many implements being used for BDSM.

Greg closed the door and used the toilet. He also washed his hands while he looked around the bath. But there weren't any suspicious things. He walked back out and picked up his bag.

“See you tomorrow, guys!” He smiled and left. He hopped down the stairs and sat behind the wheel. Out of his eyes, he could see John looking out. He started the car and left. Everything appeared to be normal.  
He made it back to Scotland Yard and into his office. He closed the door behind him and sat behind his desk. Only then he buried his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

Sherlock had looked horrible. He hadn't once met his eyes; he barely spoke and he was way too thin. He was dangerously thin. Even though his face looked full. Well, John was a doctor, wasn't he?

Greg breathed and concentrated. Only when being calm again, he called Mycroft. He told him everything he had seen.

“I don't think John has noticed anything strange. He agreed to meet tomorrow. We should take him then.” Greg suggested and Mycroft hummed.

“Yes, I believe you are right. Coming for him at Baker Street is too dangerous. We don't know how much he had changed the place. In front of the court or even inside he can't do anything. He can't be armed.”

“You said, he is a weapon by himself. We have to be careful. Several of your men need to take care of him while I snatch Sherlock away.” Greg said.

“No, you won't be anywhere near the arrest. It's too dangerous.” Mycroft said but Greg talked back.

“It's my bloody job! I owe it to Sherlock.” Mycroft didn't reply at once but Greg could hear him breathe.

“Come back home early, please. I love you.” And he hung up on him. Greg smiled.

“I love you too.” He whispered.

***

Back at Baker Street Sherlock had assumed position in front of his dom.

“Well, pet. Since I am so very pleased with you, proud even, I want to grant you a wish. You may ask for one thing to get off nicely. Any way you want, I will do it.” John thought it was a splendid idea and he wondered what his sub would wish for.

Sherlock dared to look up at him but then he licked his lips.

“Thank you, Master. I would like to get tied to the bed with a blindfold on. I would like you to touch me everywhere, stroke my skin and kiss me. I would like you to make love to me. Please, don't use anything on me. I would just like your hands and your cock, Master.” John hummed. This he could do; it was no hardship and he would get to fuck him.

“Very good, pet. I will do it tonight. Until then I want you to clean yourself out and wear a plug for me.”

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.” John pointed towards the bath and Sherlock fell on hands and knees and crawled over and inside. John followed and once his sub had reached the mat in front of the tub, he hooked the cuffs on his lower back. His head stayed on the mat and his thighs were spread.

“Good boy.” The praise made him relax at once. John changed the showerhead and Sherlock turned his head and opened his mouth to slick it up with his saliva.

John shoved the shower head especially designed for enemas between his cheeks and pushed it inside turning it several times on the way. Sherlock suppressed a groan.

“You know how this works.” John needed no more words and carefully opened the water. He only used cold water, of course, he did.

The water filled Sherlock's stomach and it didn't feel good. He closed his eyes and started to relax his body. This would be painful and he knew it. John filled him up with a lot of water and it sloshed around inside him. John touched his stomach and actually felt the cold seeping through his skin. He grinned and sat on the closed toilet lid.

Sherlock didn't move. He didn't even move when the cramps started. He sweated while his guts curled and knotted themselves.

John stood and opened the lid. Sherlock carefully crawled closer and John pulled the shower-head out of his behind. Sherlock clenched but lost nothing. John actually was impressed. He had been training him really good.

“Now get up and let go. I will leave you to it. You shower afterwards and I will have a closer look at your greedy hole before I use a plug on you.”

“Yes, Master.” He took the cuffs off his lower back and Sherlock carefully and slowly sat on the toilet. John left.

It took him more than twenty minutes to empty himself. He felt weak but also cleaned and rather well. He showered and checked between his cheeks. He knew he wasn't allowed to insert a finger so he used a wash-cloth.

“Are you all clean and proper?” John asked when Sherlock knelt in front of him.

“Yes, Master.”

“Turn around and show me.”

“Yes, Master.” His hands reached back and he pulled his cheeks apart pressing his head on the hardwood. He heard the slap of a glove when John pulled it on. He poked on his hole and pressed inside. It didn't hurt too much but his fingernails were still long beneath the latex. He pulled out and seemed to be pleased.

“Well done, pet.” He said binning the gloves.

“Thank you, Master.” John lowered his body and shoved a fat plug into him. Sherlock wasn't able to suppress everything and John once slapped him.

“None of that, slut.” The mood was changing and Sherlock bit his lips. He pulled him back up and put a cock-ring around him followed by a penis-plug.

“You made a noise and it didn't amuse me, slut.” Sherlock knew it was better to not speak and he simply bowed his head.

“That's about right, bitch.” He forced a wide ring-gag behind his teeth and buckled it tight. Then he picked up the used gloves and shoved them inside.

“No more noises, am I understood?” Sherlock nodded.

“Now move into your corner and stay there. Straight up and legs spread.” Sherlock quickly shuffled over and faced the wall. At least he hadn't been whipped or beaten or flogged or paddled. This was easy.

He patiently waited for the evening to come when his dom would grant him his one wish.

***

While Sherlock quietly knelt in his corner, John kept thinking about Greg's surprising visit. But he found nothing suspicious. He had the file with him and even left it for Sherlock to read before he had to witness. John had no choice but to let him appear before the court.

Perhaps he was getting a bit paranoid but who could blame him? He could only hope there was no one present who had seen the films. Surely no one would admit it in public and he was convinced, Sherlock would never say anything or try anything stupid.

So, tonight he would make love to him, fulfil his submissive's one wish. He actually was a bit surprised by his asking for being tied down and blindfolded. But then he remembered that was how it had all started. John had shown him some tiny parts of BDSM and Sherlock had actually liked it. A lot. He had asked for more and more and now he had him turned into a proper submissive. John smirked.

“Pet, come here!” John called out and instantly Sherlock fell on hands and knees and crawled between his legs. He assumed position and cast his eyes. John looked at him and found him calm.

“You really make me proud. Your behaviour is spotless. Even though you let out sounds now and again and I have to punish you because of it. But still you are such a proper sub. My sub. My pretty, beautiful and obedient sub.” He reached out and lifted his head to look at him. Sherlock knew by that gesture to lock eyes with his dom and he did.

“There you are. I want you to prepare our dinner tonight. We will have a nice dinner and afterwards I will do as you wish. How does that sound, pet?” John looked into his eyes and saw he was close to tears.

“Hey, don't get your face all blotchy now.” He smiled and slowly pulled out the gloves. He just dropped them. Sherlock's mouth was still forced open and he drooled heavily. John pushed two fingers inside and at once felt the tongue lick over his fingers. Simply perfect.

He reached around and took off the ring-gag. Sherlock's jaw cracked and the leather strap had left traces on his skin. God, how John loved the look of that.

But not tonight. Tonight, he would pamper him a bit to ensure him of his love and devotion. He snorted but only inwards. He freed his arms, too, and stood pulling him with.

“Freshen up. The plug stays. Get dressed and start dinner.” He pushed him into the back and it made him stumble forward.

“Yes, Master.” Sherlock hurried away and disappeared into the bath. John heard the water and went to sit on the sofa. He poured a drink and took a paperback he had wanted to read for a long time. He listened to Sherlock in the bath and him padding into the bedroom. Bedroom! John again smirked.

He quickly came back out clad in the comfy clothes John had laid out for him before. He had allowed socks today because he knew how Sherlock liked wearing them.

Soon John was able to smell the food cooking. He was preparing pasta and John expectantly closed his eyes. Sherlock had turned out to be a very good cook indeed. After his first attempts, John had to punish him severely. It had become better very soon. Now he could have worked for a several star restaurant. Perhaps John could work this fine skill into his rentals, too? He could make him cook for several doms. Naked. Serve them. First the food and then himself. He fantasied about and calculated the costs. Soon he decided it was such a nice idea. He would do it.

His thoughts wandered about until he felt his sub close by.

“Dinner is served, Master.” John looked up and there he was. He stood and followed him to the table. He held his chair for him and John allowed him to sit. He filled his plate and handed it back to him after he had taken his own fill.

“There you are, pet. This looks very good.” Sherlock still could blush and John simply loved it.

“Thank you, Master.” He had already poured wine but only for his dom.

“Enjoy your meal with some wine, too, pet.” Sherlock reached for the decanter.

“Thank you, Master.” And he did enjoy the meal. He also looked forward to later when his dom would fulfil his wish. He would make love to him. Love. Like the very first days when he simply used some ropes and only sometimes a blindfold. He would touch him gently and caress his body. He would slowly fuck him for a very long time and made him come several times during a night.

Somehow everything had turned out wrong. Sherlock knew it deep down inside. But he needed John. He couldn't be left behind, left alone. He needed his dom, needed his love, just as much as he needed someone to love and be devoted to.

John looked at his sub and saw he was dreaming away. He grinned. He knew what he was dreaming about. Tomorrow though his dream would end. Very much so.

***

After dinner, Sherlock cleaned up, the table and the kitchen. He started the dishwasher and served his dom a drink. He obviously wanted to watch some telly before they would go into the bedroom. He even was allowed another drink and his dom pointed to his side on the sofa. Sherlock happily moved up close and sighed when John slung his arm around him. He carefully placed his head on his shoulder and relaxed.

They had two drinks each until John decided it was time. He nudged his head and at once he sat up straight.

“Go, freshen up and get rid of the plug. Wait for me.” Sherlock quickly stood and bowed.

“Yes, Master.” He walked into the bath and at first pulled out the plug. He cleaned it and then himself. All naked he walked into the bedroom and stored it neatly away. His hair was all open again and flowed down over his shoulders. He knelt by the bed and held his wrists on his lower back. His eyes were on the hardwood but his ears listened for his dom.

John let him wait for a bit until he used the loo and entered the bedroom. His own private brothel. He already was hard and erect when he stood in front of his submissive.

“Aren't you happy?” He asked roughly and at once Sherlock let go of his discipline. His cock eagerly sprang up and started to leak.

“Very good, pet.” John praised and walked around him. His hand found the way into his long hair and touched, pulled, and ruffled for a while.

“Get up and on the bed. Position yourself as you like.”

“Thank you, Master.” Sherlock stood and laid on his back, arms and legs spread wide. John took several lengths of rope from the cupboard and tied him to the posts. He stroked him and caressed him while doing so.

“I want to hear you tonight. You are allowed to make noises, cry out and speak. Do not hold back tonight.” Sherlock completely relaxed and looked up at him. His eyes had already watered and were close to spill over.

“Thank you, Master.” His voice broke on the honorific.

The last thing John took out of the cupboard was a blindfold. And he didn't use the leather or rubber one. He actually chose the soft and silky fabric and placed it over his eyes. He wound it around his head twice and since it was black, Sherlock was completely blind.

His mouth stood a bit apart and he panted. John let his guard down and pulled a face while he stroked over his sub's body. He knelt by his side and took his cock. Sherlock twitched and groaned rather loudly. John gathered some pre-cum and used it to slick up the thing. It actually was long and white like his sub was.

He smeared some over his sub's lips and made him groan some more. He knew he loved this and so did he.

Tonight, he didn't pull his nipple-rings or the Prince Albert. He actually ignored them completely. There would be other nights and days. The main thing was that the clients liked them, liked to play with them hard and rude.

His finger moved under his arse and over his perineum and hole. Sherlock was sweaty and made noises. God, how hard was it for him to hold back all the time? John was very proud of himself, of his proper training and education.

Perhaps he should leave the country and open a club himself? He had enough money; he had earned it. Well, actually Sherlock had earned it for him but who cared? There also was Sherlock's money he had full access to.  
He could leave with him after the appointment tomorrow. In Russia, people would pay even more money for these extreme sex-things. He had noticed the sales into that area and was convinced it would work.

He thought about all this while he stroked and caressed his submissive. He was totally helpless beneath him and he also still loved him. He would follow him. He would obey. He would do anything for him.

John smirked while he pushed his finger inside. He was still wide from wearing the plug for hours. He would be wide enough anyway due to all the fucking. He found his prostate and circled it, pressed down, and rubbed over it.

The noises Sherlock made were heavenly. He pulled at the ropes and his head lolled over the pillows.

John finger-fucked him for a long time moving up to four fingers. He had him on the edge and listened to his begging.

He started to kiss the inside of his thighs and had to hold him down. He refrained from licking his prick or balls. He was a dom, he didn't do that. Sherlock's balls pulled up anyway and he let him come for the first time.

Sherlock yelled the place down and his body shook. He was half-hard afterwards and at once John started all over again.

***

John let him come several times and stopped when he wasn't leaking anymore. He had fucked him slowly and almost tenderly. He had even kissed him and Sherlock melted into the bedding.

Finally, he pulled off the blindfold and looked into his eyes. They were half-closed and a smile pulled his full lips up. His body was smeared with cum but he was absolutely relaxed. John undid the ropes around his wrists and ankles.

“Stay.” He whispered and even went so far as to clean him up with a warm, wet, towel. Sherlock sighed and almost cried. This was what he was missing every day. This was what he longed for. This was how it was supposed to be.

But his life, it wasn't like this. His life was different, very much so. His days and nights were filled with violence and rape. He had scars and bruises all over his too-thin body. He had been pierced. He had been forced to appear in scenes in front of a camera. He had been rented out.

Sherlock suffered a lot and by now he had doubts. He still loved John, his dom. But he also missed his former life.

Why wasn't he fighting? Why didn't he rebel?

By now he was too weak to fight. But the most important fact was that he was scared. He was too scared of his dom who would do unspeakable things to him if he tried something stupid like running away.

Most of all though, Sherlock was simply scared of being left alone. If his dom, if John, would leave him, he was convinced he would die, turn back to his drugs. He would simply take too much and kill himself because his life was nothing without his dom, without John.

“What are you thinking about, pet? You are far away!” John poked into his stomach and Sherlock was back.

“I am sorry, Master.” Sherlock longingly looked up.

“So?” John was very insistent.

“I thought about the last hours and what you did for me, Master. It was wonderful. I love you very much...” Again, they locked eyes.

“So, do I, pet.” John smiled at him but Sherlock noted very well that he wouldn't say the words. Then he turned away and left him behind. He didn't order him to do anything and now Sherlock was a bit helpless. The cum dried on some parts of his body John hadn't wiped clean and also still leaked out of his behind.

Suddenly John returned and raised a brow.

“Clean up, change the bedding and plug yourself for the rest of the night. You need to be alert for tomorrow. Set an alarm, too.”

“Yes, Master.” He did all that and wondered if he was allowed to take the case file with him. He needed to read it. He needed to be prepared.

He slowly crept up to John on the sofa and knelt.

“What is it, pet?” John asked staring into his paperback.

“I am sorry, Master. I would like to read the file, please.” John pointed it out on the coffee table.

“Half an hour. Then you will sleep. Am I clear?” Sherlock swallowed.

“Yes, Master.” He slowly stood and took the folder. He crept into bed and leant against the headrest. The plug rested inside his hole and soon it started to hurt. He moved on his back and it was better. He checked the time and read for exactly half an hour. Then he switched the light off and closed his eyes. Slowly he moved on his side and waited for his dom. But he wouldn't join him. Sherlock fell asleep anyway. He was too exhausted.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Greg had arrived at Mycroft's place right after his day was done. He had been to work like any other day just to not raise suspicion should John call or even pay him a visit. But nothing of the sort happened.

Mycroft came home a bit later and found Greg sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea. He liked the kitchen for some strange reason. He stepped up and placed his large hand on his head.

“Hey...” Greg quietly exclaimed. He looked up and his big brown eyes were tired.

“Hey...” Mycroft said with a smile. He had changed quite a bit since being with Greg.

“Dinner?” Greg hopefully asked and Mycroft shrugged.

“Something small is enough. We will start with a healthy breakfast tomorrow.” Mycroft pulled him up.

“Whatever.” Mycroft saw that Greg needed him close now and he led him into the library. He knew Greg loved the place, loved to sit by the fire. They settled on a fur right there and he felt him relax.

“What are we...” But he shook his head.

“No, Gregory. Not tonight. Tomorrow morning.” He held his hand.

“But everything has been arranged?” He looked into his steely eyes.

“Indeed.” He handed over a decently filled tumbler and Greg sighed happily. They drank and didn't speak until their light dinner was ready. It got served in here, as well. Greg was thankful for it.

Half an hour later Mycroft almost carried him up and into the bedroom. He made sure he freshened up before he climbed into bed. He was gone in seconds. Mycroft shook his head and went through his bathroom-routine before he joined him. He heard him mutter quietly. He kissed him and pulled him close. He listened to his heartbeat for quite a while before he fell asleep as well.

***

The next morning both men were awake and alert. Greg expectantly looked at Mycroft who had actually joined him at the kitchen table. First, he poured tea for himself. Greg had coffee.

“Well, I promised, didn't I?” He sighed arranging his plate.

“Yes, you did. Now go ahead!” Greg lightly pushed but a smile was on his handsome face.

“Security reported no visitors at Baker Street. John Watson did not leave the house. We expect them to appear before the court. He will have to let Sherlock run by himself for a while. They are not a married couple and he won't be allowed to join him when he talks to the state lawyer before his witness account.”

“John will be convinced that Sherlock will behave, that his training had worked. He has no other choice but to believe in his submissive.” Greg said and pulled a face.

“The talk will give us the much-needed time. John will be inside the courtroom and wait for Sherlock to appear as a witness. The witnesses will be led in one by one and I put Sherlock in the middle. We will take him away from the room he will be waiting in. He will be patiently waiting to be called in. I will take him away myself. He knows me and he will listen to me.”

“What will you do if he resists or even fights?” Greg asked. Mycroft swallowed a piece of toast.

“I don't believe he will. But should he resist or even fight, I will have a tazer with me.” Mycroft replied.

“What? Are you insane? He is too thin. His heart could bloody stop!” Greg was angry but mostly he was worried.

“You asked.” Mycroft just said and Greg snorted.

“Sherlock is only skin and bones by now. He is weak and you will be able to overpower him easily if you so wish. Please, do not use a tazer on him. It could badly hurt him. It _will_ badly hurt him.” Greg reached for his hand.

“Very well, I won't take it with me.” Mycroft said and felt him relax.

“And I will be in the courtroom, too. I will have an eye on John Watson and sit with the other police-officers. This is not in any way suspicious. And if he leaves the room for whatever reason, I will follow him.”

“I believe we have it all covered.” Mycroft checked his watch and stood.

“It's time, Gregory.” He nodded and followed him. They donned their coats and left the house with security on their heels. Reports came in that both John and Sherlock had left Baker Street by cab. Mycroft seemed to be pleased when his car reached the garage beneath the court.

They exchanged a last kiss and Greg used the elevator to reach the courtroom. Mycroft waited in the car until the moment Sherlock was seated in the waiting room. It shouldn't take long.

***

John had ensured that Sherlock was impeccably dressed in one of his suits. He even had gone so far as to take off the collar. Instead, he gave him a silver chain.

Sherlock was confused and thought he was punished. His fingers clung to the collar even though he knew it only caused horrible pain. But if his dom took it away, it surely meant he wasn't worth wearing it anymore.

“Please, Master...” John saw his wide panicked eyes and enjoyed the morning-show. But then he knew he couldn't appear before the court all blotchy.

“Let go, pet. I meant it to be a surprise for you.” Slowly Sherlock's fingers let go and he dared to look up and into his dom's eyes. He clearly didn't understand. The only thing he knew was that his actions right now weren't too good.

“I am sorry, Master.” He whispered and held back the tears. John palmed his face and his thumb moved over his cheekbone.

“You have proved me many times that you are more than worth to be my submissive. That's why I am giving you this.” He held up the silver chain and dangled it in front of his face. Sherlock looked at it and swallowed. He actually couldn't believe it but there was his dom taking the collar away.

“The collar will go into the cupboard. Just to remind you of your bad behaviour in the past. But that's over now, isn't it, pet?” John smiled and tilted his head.

“Yes, Master.” A tiny smile showed on Sherlock's lips and John relaxed. Today would work. Sherlock would witness and then they would go home again. And tomorrow they would leave the country for Russia. John had arranged everything overnight. This afternoon he would receive his booked appointment to earn some more money. It would exhaust him and John expected no resistance anyway.

“Now don't you look perfect!” John exclaimed and Sherlock noticed the missing _endearment_. John looked him over for the last time and checked his watch.

“Let's go. I called a cab.” He gestured towards the door and Sherlock started to move. He had been briefed very thorough. He had been given permission to go and witness before the court. No more interactions though. Only if he saw Greg Lestrade, he was allowed a few words. But no talking to anybody else besides the necessary persons on the trial.

They stepped out of the door and walked down the seventeen stairs. It felt alien to Sherlock. He hadn't been outside for a long time. And he didn't even wear a plug. It actually felt like something was missing.

Outside, the sun shone onto Baker Street and Sherlock turned his head blinking. The sun was too bright and too hot. It hurt his eyes.

The cab stopped in front of them and John held open the door for his sub. He pushed into his lower back and Sherlock climbed inside. They rode away and Sherlock looked on the floor, the very dirty floor. His hands were folded and he felt his dom by his side. He wondered how he would cope without his dom close. It would be the very first time but yesterday John had been talking to him and explained what was expected. He had also told him he knew Sherlock would manage, that he trusted him to be good for him, the perfect submissive. _His_ perfect submissive.

“There we are. You know how to behave.” John whispered while they stood by the stairs.

“Yes, Master.” He lightly slapped his behind and they parted ways inside the building. Sherlock was picked up by a guard to be led into the office and John went to look for the room where the trial would be held.

Sherlock looked at his dom until he disappeared from his view. Only then he quietly followed the guard. A door was opened for him.

“Please, sit down, Sir. Someone will appear soon to accompany you into the courtroom.” Sherlock didn't look at him but replied politely.

“Thank you, Sir.” He walked over to a group of armchairs and a table on which sat water and some fruit as well as coffee. He settled and patiently waited for someone to talk to him.

***

Greg parked his police-cruiser inside the court garage and rode the elevator upstairs. He directly walked into the courtroom and at once saw John Watson already sitting there. They greeted each other and Greg took his place with other police-officers. He wore a tiny device that would allow him to listen to what Mycroft was doing.

Mycroft, in the meantime, stood in front of the room where his younger sibling was waiting. He looked at the judge who nodded. The guard stood still outside, too. He exhaled and then pushed down the handle.

He at once saw how sick Sherlock looked. He was too thin, too pale. He looked haunted. And he didn't look up. Slowly Mycroft stepped up close until he could almost touch him. He cleared his throat but still there was no reaction.

“Hello, brother-mine.” He saw his reaction. His body stilled completely and it took him almost half a minute until he lifted his head and looked up at him. His lips opened but still no words. But then he suddenly stood.

A single tear found its way out of his eye and over his protruding cheekbone. His lips started to quiver.

“Myc...” He sobbed out the one syllable and then threw himself into his brother's arms. The action surprised Mycroft but at once his arms came up and he held him tight.

“Hush, brother-dear. I am here to help you.” Sherlock's fingers clawed almost painfully into his arms.

“I can't leave my dom. He surely would kill me.” Sherlock exhaled and his grip lost all the strength.

“He can find me everywhere...” Sherlock sobbed.

“No, he won't. I will personally ensure that. You will never see him again. You are safe with me. Come along now, Sherlock.“ He took his hand and pulled him towards the door. Sherlock followed his brother.

“What will happen to John?” He asked just as they reached the door. Mycroft wouldn't look at him.

“That should not be your concern.” But Sherlock became stubborn.

“But I owe him. He is my dom. He takes care of me...” Sherlock was crying openly now.

“Listen to me. He abused you. He forced you to appear in sex-movies, violent sex-movies. He is renting you out. He hurt you, still does probably. You need to leave him. You are capable of a life without him, Sherlock.” But Sherlock's eyes were full of panic and he shook his head.

“No, I can't leave him. I will be all alone again. Lonely. Unloved. I can't do it. Without my dom, I will return to drugs. Lots of drugs.” He wildly nodded making his hair fly. The rubber-band had gone loose somehow and Mycroft simply stared at the masses of dark hair floating around him.

“You won't be alone. You will stay with us. We will take care of you. You don't have to be afraid.” But Sherlock panted and his face showed red spots while he repeatedly shook his head.

“Can't...” His voice broke and he fell on his knees in front of his brother.

Mycroft hadn't expected something like this. At first, he simply looked down at his younger sibling who now slowly fell on his hands and lowered his head. All the time he sobbed and with a last heart-wrenching sound he fell to the side.

His eyes were still open but he didn't move.

“Fuck...” Mycroft only rarely swore but his time with Greg had left traces. He lowered himself down and felt Sherlock's pulse. It was barely audible and very, very slow. Mycroft called for his security and they only needed seconds to dash inside.

“Take him into my car. Now. You two, go and arrest Dr John Watson. Take him into custody. You know where.”

“Yes, Sir.” One guard carefully picked up Sherlock and quickly carried him away and into the elevator. The aisle had been cleared and they reached the garage in under a minute. Mycroft climbed into his car and the guard gently placed Sherlock beside him.

***

Greg had listened to everything and was pleased with the final result. Mycroft and Sherlock were safe and taken home. Now there would be an arrest right here and he prepared mentally. If needed, he would intervene.

The doors were opened and two men of Mycroft's security team entered. They directly approached John Watson who stood at once. His body instantly moved into a fighting stance and he attacked. The guards fought back and Greg approached the group. John actually managed to make one guard fly over a bench and hit the backrest hard enough to lose his consciousness.

Greg reached into his jacket and retrieved the tazer he hadn't wanted on Mycroft. Over John's head, he caught the eyes of the guard and he instantly let go of John. John thought he had won and grinned.

Greg fired and the wires hit John's back. He groaned loudly, almost shouted, and his body shook for seconds while Greg happily pressed the button down. Finally, he crumpled on the floor and Greg let security take over. He watched him being cuffed and then he was taken away. He looked over his shoulder but the second man was already getting back up and followed his colleague. Greg followed them downstairs and only when they had driven away, he entered his police-cruiser and rode into his office. While he was still on his way, his mobile rang and he answered it.

“Gregory, where are you going?” He heard him both inside his ear and over the speakers. He quickly pulled out the device he had taken this morning.

“I am on my way to the Yard. I told you, I'll be back as soon as possible. I can't take time off without notice.” Greg slowed down a bit while talking.

“We just arrived home. Sherlock isn't reacting. I have called my doctor. Please, Gregory. Let me arrange your time-off. I know you hate it when I intervene but...” Greg sadly smiled and interrupted.

“Just do it. I will talk to Sally and she will take over my cases and everything else needed.” He could hear him exhale. Relax.

“Thank you, Gregory.” He whispered.

“See you soon. Both of you.” Greg hung up and parked his car. He rode up and upon arriving at his desk, he was called into his Superintendant's office already. He actually wasn't there but his secretary was. She simply handed him the papers, the signed papers, allowing him to take a week off starting right this moment.

“Have a good time!” She cheerily smiled and he returned it automatically.

“Thank you!” He quickly left and looked for his team. He briefed them rather quickly but was thorough nonetheless. Only Sally knew about his relation to Mycroft Holmes.

He asked her into his office before he left for good and told her about Sherlock. She was shocked. She had never really liked the man but no one deserved to be treated like this. She wished him all the best and promised to take care of everything. She also told him not to worry and forbid him to call her. Then she pointed to the door and actually made him leave.

He sadly looked over his shoulder but when he finally stood inside the elevator and the doors were closing, he felt the strength leaving him. He felt a bit dizzy. He was glad there was a car waiting for him and he climbed inside.  
He arrived at Mycroft's place and wondered what he would find inside. He entered the building and hung up his jacket. He at once got rid of his shoes and padded along.

“Myc?” He called out but the only one who appeared was the butler.

“Mr Holmes is upstairs in the master bedroom with his brother and his doctor. He would like you to come upstairs right away, Sir.”

“Thanks!” He rushed upstairs and heard the voices already.

“He will sleep for a good while, Mycroft.” Right then Greg entered the room. Mycroft turned his head and visibly relaxed.

“Gregory, thank God...” He murmured and hugged him. The other man, obviously his doctor, smiled.

“DI Lestrade, it's nice to finally meet you. I am Dr Sanders, Kim Sanders. I know this one here for many, many years.” They shook hands.

“How is Sherlock?” Greg dared to ask.

“He went into shock. He was scared.” Mycroft replied.

“What can we do to help him?” Greg looked at Dr Sanders.

“You should give him his own room. Find things that belonged to him before his personality was taken away. He needs clothes that don't remind him of his recent past. If not really necessary, I don't want to prescribe drugs. He simply needs your company and good food. See that he eats and drinks a lot. Always ask him what he wants, what he needs.” He thoughtfully looked at the sleeping form.

“We will do all that. Thanks a lot, Kim.” Mycroft said.

“Don't mention it, Mycroft. Call me any time if needed.” He took his bag and left. Security let him out.

“Which room do you want to change for Sherlock? I'll start right away.” Greg looked at him.

“You look like you need to rest, Gregory. You can start tomorrow. Today I just want you close.”

“You are probably right. I felt dizzy on the way.”

“Let's have something to eat. We can eat right here. I don't want him to wake up alone.”

“I'll get us something.” Greg kissed him and went downstairs to retrieve some food. Mycroft looked at his back and was extremely happy he had him.

“What would I do without him?” He smiled and then looked back at Sherlock.

Downstairs Greg filled a big glass with water and gulped it down. Then he collected a snack, made some sandwiches, and poured water into a jug. The butler eyed him but didn't disturb him. He simply handed over some things he knew his boss preferred.  
Greg carried everything upstairs and placed the tray on a small table between two armchairs.

“Come here, Myc.” They devoured the sandwiches and Greg soon felt much better.

“I'll go back to Baker Street and search the flat for Sherlock's belongings. Somehow, I don't think John destroyed them. He surely stored them somewhere. We can make up his room in here with some stuff from his home. I will also go and buy clothes for him. Clothes of the sort he never owned, like a pair of jeans, t-shirts and sneakers.”

“Very good, Gregory. But security will be with you, both at Baker Street and while you are doing the shopping. Just in case.” He looked serious.

“Sure. Do you think John had an accomplice?” Greg asked.

“Actually, I don't. But I want to be on the safe side.” He sipped the water and then he suddenly downed it.

“I agree. I will carry a mattress in here from one of the other rooms. Then we can each sleep for some hours.” But Mycroft shook his head.

“No, Gregory. You sleep. You look horribly exhausted. I was told already what you did. Had to do. I am glad you weren't hurt.” They looked at each other.

“I actually felt happy when stopping him. I might have pressed the tazer a bit longer than strictly needed.” A small smile pulled Mycroft's lips up and Greg was surprised. But then he smiled, too.

“You know, I don't think I can sleep without you tonight. That's why I am going to sleep in here if you don't mind.” Greg sounded serious.

“I believe, there must be a guest-bed somewhere on the attic. I will send someone to retrieve it.”

“I didn't even know you had an attic.” Greg said. Mycroft shrugged.

Suddenly they both turned their head when Sherlock deeply sighed and started to move. Mycroft stood from his armchair and sat on the bed instead. Greg stood behind Mycroft and placed his hand on his shoulder.  
Sherlock slowly blinked his eyes open. His eyes moved between his brother and Greg. His fingers twitched and nervously played with the blanket.

“How are you feeling, Sherlock?” Mycroft asked but Sherlock didn't reply.

“Do you need anything, mate?” Greg asked. Now Sherlock shook his head. Suddenly his stomach rumbled and Mycroft raised a brow.

“What about mushy potatoes and scrambled eggs? Tea with honey?” He suggested and now Sherlock looked carefully up and into his eyes.

“I'd like that.” He quietly answered.

“I'll go right away and get it.” Greg left for the kitchen to tell someone or find the ingredients to prepare the food himself.

Upstairs Mycroft took his brother's hand.

“Sherlock, Dr Kim did have a look at you. He told me you are malnourished and need to eat and drink a lot. He also told me you need to rest.”

“Yes, Myc.” Mycroft raised a brow.

“What do you mean?” He asked and Sherlock kept fiddling with the blanket.

“I will eat, drink and rest.”

“Would you like to stay here with Gregory and myself for a while? We will make a room ready for you and you can recover in your own time. Take all the time you need.”

“Where is my dom?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft dropped his hand.

“He has been arrested for the violent crimes he has committed. You don't have to worry anymore.”

“But I have to worry about him. He is my dom. He takes care of me. Now he is gone. What will I do now? I don't know what to do! I am left behind!” His eyes were wide open and he started to pant. Mycroft saw he was close to a panic attack. He needed to prevent that but he didn't know how. He sincerely hoped Gregory would return any second now. Somehow, he knew he could do it. Speak to Sherlock and calm him down.

Because if he spoke to his brother now, he would get very, very angry and upset. That's why he stood and made a few steps back. Sherlock cast his eyes and tensed. It seemed as if he sensed how angry he was. And it scared him.

“I need my dom... I can't live without him. He takes care of me. He provides everything. He educates me and he praises me. Please...” He started to cry but very quietly.

Mycroft wasn't able to utter a single word. He just couldn't. He didn't want to shout at his brother.

Where the hell was Gregory?

***

When Sherlock went into shock after having met his brother, he hid deep inside. He could still hear and see but he didn't do anything. He felt being carried away and put into the car. He was brought up into a room and Dr Kim was there and talked to his brother. He remembered Dr Kim. He liked Dr Kim and when he examined his body, it was fine.

He fell asleep afterwards and he dreamed. He dreamed of his former life. He felt drugs racing through his body and lighten up his brain. He saw the disappointed look on his brother's face and Greg on crime-scenes he had worked on.

He also saw his dom. He saw John. John, how he made love to him. He heard John's praises and felt his adoration in the early days. But suddenly the dreams changed. He felt the corporal punishments, felt the piercing of his nipples and how the Prince Albert was worked through.

He started to sweat. He heard his voice bellowing and shouting. He felt the riding-crop hit his body. But mainly he felt his massive cock being forced inside his behind. Every day, again and again.

Finally, he felt a big loss. He saw himself all alone in their flat. Without John. His dom was gone. His vision became blurry and he slowly fought back his way into consciousness.

He blinked his eyes open and he saw his big brother. He actually felt much better at once. Surely, he would help him find his dom. He could always rely on him. He also remembered Greg. He was a police officer. He would help, too. If he asked nicely enough, surely they would stand by his side and bring his dom back.

But suddenly his brother let go of his hand and stood. Sherlock knew he was angry. But why was he angry?

Sherlock clamped his mouth shut and cast his eyes. He knew how angry his brother could become if he behaved a bit not good.

And now he even moved back from the bed, back from him. Sherlock became scared and his eyes darted around the room, looking for anything but his brother. Where was Greg? He remembered Greg helping him in the past. He had let him on his crime-scenes. And he had praised him, too.

His eyes shot up and met Greg's who had just entered the room carrying a tray with food. At once he sensed the mood in here and put up a huge grin.

“I bet you really are hungry now, right? Sit up and eat, mate.” Sherlock happily obliged. This was an order and he sat up. His hole was still sore and it hurt. But it was nothing in comparison. He had gone through so much more.

Greg placed the tray on his thighs and looked at him. But Sherlock simply looked back. Greg understood he needed guidance. He sat on the bed ignoring the glares from behind.

“Please, eat. Enjoy your meal. I was told you like it.” Very slowly Sherlock picked up the fork.

“Thank you.” He whispered the two words and it was the first time after long weeks and months that they were directed at another person than his dom. He started to eat. He ate slowly but seemed to like it. Greg stayed where he was until he was done. He also made him drink all the water.

“I think you should take a bath before you rest some more. What do you think?” Sherlock only shrugged.

“What do you want to do?” Greg asked and now their eyes met. Behind him he heard Mycroft inhale sharply.

“I want to go back home. I need to be back with my dom. Only he can help me. I can't be without him. I will do something really stupid. See? Myc already is very angry. I made him angry. I don't want that. I need him. I need his guidance. Please...” Again, he begged and it hurt Greg's heart. Now he also understood why Mycroft was behaving like he was. But he stayed calm.

At first, he took away the tray and placed it on the floor. Then he gently took Sherlock's hand.

“Listen to me, Sherlock. John Watson is gone. You will never see him again. You are a free man from now on.” Sherlock's eyes widened in shock and his free hand took hold of the silver chain around his neck.

“Take it off, Sherlock.” But he shook his head.

“Would you like me to take it off for you?” Greg suggested. Sherlock swallowed. He trusted Greg. And deep inside he knew that both his brother and Greg were right. John hadn't been good to him. He had done horrible things to him. But perhaps he had deserved them because of his horrible behaviour? John had told him numerous times that he needed to be trained and educated. He had to bear all of his methods to become the perfect submissive for his dom. And he very much wanted to be good for him. He had finally found his place, felt so much better, calmer. He didn't need any drugs when he was with John, subbed for him. And he was given love. He had made love to him. And to receive it, he had gone through all the other things John had dished out for educational reasons.

Sherlock still looked at Greg after all these thoughts had raced through his mind. He licked his lips.

“What can I do without him?” His words were quietly spoken but they were the first steps into a new life.

Mycroft relaxed just a little bit and Greg broadly smiled.

“You can do the same things you did before you met John Watson. You can be smart and brilliant and deduce and simply do your wonders on my crime-scenes.” A tiny smile tugged up Sherlock's lips.

“I can do that. Yes. I know I can because I remember doing it all before.” His face lightened up.

“Exactly.” Greg nodded and took the tray away. Sherlock's eyes drooped. He was exhausted.

“Go back to sleep, Sherlock. You need to rest.” Greg quietly said watching Sherlock move on his back again. Very slowly Mycroft crept back.

“Dr Kim left some medicine for you. Take them before you go to sleep, please.” He handed them over with a glass of water for his brother who simply took it. He quickly downed the pills with water. Then he carefully looked up.

“I am sorry, Myc. I made you angry and upset. I didn't mean to.” Mycroft smiled and carded through his hair. Sherlock fell asleep.

Mycroft and Greg looked at each other.

“I don't know what I would do without you, Gregory.” Mycroft whispered and he was close to tears. Greg quickly placed the tray on the table and pulled him close.

“Your reactions are quite understandable. Don't blame yourself. Sherlock deep down knows that he has been wronged. He is strong and he will survive.” They hugged and Greg kissed him.

“Come on now. Let's find that bed and settle.” But Mycroft shook his head.

“I need to go to my office first. I am sorry but I have to check in with my men at Baskerville. I want to read their report after the arrest.” Greg slowly nodded.

“Print it and bring it up here. We can both read it.” Suddenly it quietly knocked and the door was opened. In came both the butler and one of the security team with the bed from the attic. It had been cleaned already and was placed on the hardwood.  
Mycroft nodded his thanks and they quietly left again. They looked at the bed and Greg grinned up at him.

“This will be very cosy.” Mycroft couldn't but laugh. God, how he loved the man.

***

A while later they were huddled on the bed and Mycroft held up the papers so they could both read. Suddenly he felt Greg's body relax and he carefully turned his head. He was sleeping. Mycroft kept holding him and thought about his brother.  
Tomorrow he would take care of the bloody chain and his hair. He turned his head and breathed in Greg's scent. Toothpaste, a left-over of his favourite after-shave and body-lotion. He felt his stubbles against his own sensitive skin and smiled. Slowly he drifted away, too.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Sherlock slept through the whole night with the help of Dr Kim's pills. And when he woke, he actually felt good. But he also needed the loo.

He knew he was with his brother, stayed in his home now. He knew by heart he could do as he pleased. But then he couldn't. He needed to earn the privilege to use the bathroom.

He swallowed and looked around the room after having sat up. His eyes found both his brother and Greg close together on the smallish guest-bed. He smiled and tilted his head. It looked nice. Calm and peaceful.

He cleared his throat.

“Myc?” But his brother didn't react. God, he really needed the loo. He started to sweat a bit and pressed his long legs together. He knew he wasn't supposed to do this. He wasn't allowed to touch his cock either.

“Greg?” He tried again and earned a light grumble.

“Greg!” Again, and a tiny bit louder. Greg's eyes blinked open and he focused on Sherlock.

“Hey!” He threw him a tired smile and carefully sat up. Mycroft rolled on his front but didn't wake. Greg got off the awful bed and stretched his body. His bones cracked and he walked closer to Sherlock who seemed to be a bit stressed.

“Good morning, sunshine. What do you need?” He asked. Sherlock's eyes darted around and towards the ensuite.

“I need the loo, please?” Right now, he already had to cross his legs.

“Go on then, Sherlock. Get up and go into the bath. It's all fine.” Sherlock threw the blanket off his body and hurried. Greg looked at him and listened to the noises. He seemed to be fine. He heard the water run and soon enough Sherlock padded back. He wore one of Mycroft's pyjamas and it hung from his too-thin frame. Mycroft was slim but he was healthy. Sherlock though needed to eat and build up muscles and strength again.

“Better now?” Greg asked.

“Yes.” Sherlock wouldn't look at him. Obviously, he had no idea what to do now.

“Why don't you wake up your brother while I go into the bath. Afterwards we can all have some breakfast.”

“Yes, Greg.” They looked at each other for a few seconds and Greg knew he had to simply leave the room to get Sherlock going. He disappeared into the bath and left Sherlock behind.

***

Mycroft slowly woke because someone touched his shoulder. Slow strokes combined with just a bit of pressure. He opened his eyes.

“Sherlock?” He murmured sleepily and blinked his eyes open.

“Myc, Greg allowed me to wake you. He is in the bath and wants us to have breakfast together.” He knelt beside the smallish bed and expectantly looked down.

“Well, I shall get up then.” He slowly stood and Sherlock stood with him. His hair was all tousled but he didn't touch it, didn't move it back.

Greg returned from his quick wash and Mycroft quickly went into the bathroom, too. Sherlock felt rather cold but didn't complain. Instead he waited for Greg to tell him what to do or what happened next. Greg though simply opened the wardrobe and retrieved one of Mycroft's dressing-gowns.

“Here, take this. I can see you are freezing. Here are socks and slippers, too.”

“Thank you.” Quickly Sherlock donned everything and felt so much better.

“Sherlock, before we sit down for breakfast, would you please remove the chain?” Greg quietly asked. At once his fingers reached up and took a hold. He swallowed and then he panted.

“It is a reward. If I take it away, it's bad behaviour.” He slowly shook his head.

“John told you that, didn't he? He gave it to you before you went to court, am I right?” Sherlock nodded.

“Yes, he took my collar away. I was shocked and felt naked. I thought I had done something horrible. But he said it was a reward for good behaviour and gave it to me instead.”

“He made you wear a collar?” Greg hadn't seen when he had visited them at Baker Street.

“Yes, it made me his. It was a proof of love.”

“It was a proof of ownership. I bet it sat very tight, didn't it?” Greg seriously asked.

“It was supposed to remind me of him and what I was.” Greg had a lot to do to keep his calm but he went on.

“What kind of collar was it then? Was it soft leather?” He asked showing interest in the matter and he felt Sherlock relax a bit.

“No, it was stainless-steel. It was locked and my dom held the key. It never came off. He also had a remote that he used for punishing me if I did something wrong.” Greg's eyes widened.

“It was an electric device? He put an electric collar around your neck?” Greg incredulously asked.

“Yes, he said it would help me become the perfect submissive.” Sherlock was dead serious.

“Well, I simply want you to become yourself again. You know, you can have the sex all the way you want. But your life wasn't healthy. He mistreated you. He tortured you. He made you into a slave, not a proper submissive. He forced you to do porn in front of a camera. He rented you out. He hurt you...”

Sherlock had listened to Greg and he knew deep down he was right. He inhaled and his fingers fumbled with the heavy silver chain.

“Can you do it, Greg? Please? I can't...” But Greg shook his head.

“No, this is not mine to do. You have to do it yourself. Get rid of it. Get rid of this damn sign of ownership, Sherlock!” Greg stared into his eyes and Sherlock met his gaze. For once the brown eyes seemed to shimmer metallic. Hard. This was a different person coming out and Sherlock felt the power. He swallowed. Greg seemed to be so strong. If he would help him, perhaps he could survive all this.

Finally, he sighed and lifted both his arms. His fingers felt for the lock and he had to fumble a bit but he managed. The chain fell from his neck and he held it. Greg wordlessly held up the bin from under the desk. Sherlock dropped it and stared into the bin. Then he started to scratch his neck.

“Let me see, please.” Soft and gentle-voiced Greg was back and Sherlock relaxed dropping his hand.

“It is a bit inflamed. After breakfast and a shower, we can put some ointment on it. Dr Kim left some for you.” He took Sherlock's wrist and pulled.

Suddenly Sherlock's stomach grumbled and Greg grinned.

“Are you hungry?” Sherlock nodded. Right then, Mycroft came out of the bath. He looked a bit better.

“Breakfast?” He asked and Greg opened the door for Sherlock. Together they walked downstairs and into the dining-room. It was set up for three and all the things needed were already on the table. Greg plonked on a chair and poured coffee. Mycroft followed. Only Sherlock stood. He wondered where he could eat? Both men looked up and realised his dilemma.

“Sherlock, come on and sit with us. There is no question about it.” He sat down and looked at all the things. His hands were folded on his lap and he expectantly looked at both his brother and Greg.

“What are you waiting for?” Greg asked.

“I need my plate filled, please.” He quietly answered.

“How the hell should Greg know what you want?” Mycroft asked wanting to push him forward.

“I am not supposed to take food by myself. I was always given my food. Sometimes even at the table and on a plate.” Mycroft froze with his cup at his lips.

“And sometimes on your knees being fed? You ate out of bowls, as well, am I right?” Sherlock nodded.

“Well, that's not going to happen anymore. Remember, Sherlock, you are a human being. You are free. What John Watson did to you wasn't what a proper dom would do. He was a manic sadist and he tortured you. Now wake up and take a plate and fill it with all the things you want.”

Mycroft stared at Greg and by now he really wondered about his experiences. His own were very limited, it seemed.

Sherlock instead simply took a plate and filled it. Then he slowly started to eat but he became more secure by the minute. He even took the coffee by himself. Carefully, Mycroft shoved over the sugar. He knew his brother liked milk and two sugars in his coffee. A small smile tugged his lips up when he took it.

Greg's eyes met Mycroft's and he saw his confusion. He tilted his head a bit and Mycroft raised a brow. Greg knew they had to talk later, without Sherlock present. But at first, they had to take care of him. He needed his hair cut. And Dr Kim should remove his nipple-rings and the Prince Albert. Greg had seen both when Sherlock had been examined. Mycroft had seen these things, too, and he had paled. He hadn't understood. He had never seen such things before. Greg found his sexual innocence extremely sexy.

“Dr Kim will return in a few to have another look at you.” Mycroft said taking the last coffee and earning a glare from Greg. Sherlock saw it and at once stood.

“I will brew more coffee, Myc.” He grabbed the thermos and left for the kitchen. Both men looked but didn't stop him.

“Well, that went better than I expected.” Greg said buttering another toast.

“I don't know what to say. I don't know what I would do without you, Gregory.” He looked at him and Greg reached out for his hand.

“We will take care of him together. And I am sorry I fell asleep yesterday. So, tell me, what about the report?”

“He was taken directly into Baskerville. He was secured in a cell deep down below the ground. He is not allowed to interact with others. Let it be guards or other prisoners. He tried to fight his way out on the way but was overpowered. As soon as Sherlock is a bit better, I will go and interrogate him myself.” Greg hummed.

“And?” Greg asked with a raised brow.

“And what, Gregory?” Mycroft looked cold.

“What will you do after your interrogation?” Greg insisted.

“He will disappear.” Mycroft quietly replied. Greg shook his head.

“No, I asked what you will do, Myc. Don't mess with me now, please.” He sounded very serious and the glint was back in his eyes. Mycroft swallowed and drank more tea.

“I will kill him myself. Pleased, now?” He almost hissed out the words leaning towards Greg.

“I will be pleased with the final result, Myc. Don't be angry with me, OK? I simply want your honesty.” Sherlock came back and looked from his brother to Greg. He didn't say anything though and simply placed the thermos on the table.

“Thank you, Sherlock. It's much appreciated.” Mycroft said with a tight smile on his face. Sherlock sat back down and eyed the fried bacon. He hadn't had fried bacon for ages and rather unconsciously he licked his lips.

Greg shoved the plate over and Sherlock reached out pulling it towards himself for the rest of the way. Slowly he took a piece and lifted it up to his mouth. He crunched and munched until the plate was empty and his mouth and chin were covered in grease. But he looked happy.

“You need a shower, mate.” Greg grinned. Sherlock blushed and used a napkin. Mycroft looked at Gregory.

“I will get dressed and start my work. Do you manage?” He looked at Sherlock.

“Yes, Mycroft. I will shower and wait for Dr Kim.” Mycroft stood.

“Very good. See you later. Both of you.” And gone he was. Greg smiled shaking his head.

“Come on, Sherlock. I will find some clothes for you.” Sherlock and Greg walked back upstairs where Sherlock simply shed his clothes and placed everything neatly folded on a chair. Again, Greg's eyes rested on his nipple-rings and Prince Albert. Sherlock didn't notice but went into the bath. Greg listened to the noises while he looked for something to dress for Sherlock. Finally, he chose some trackpants of Myc's, a t-shirt and socks. He laid it out on the bed and waited.  
The moment he came back out he saw the fresh clothes and looked questioningly at Greg.

“Yes, these are for you.” Sherlock quickly got dressed and Greg looked at his tangled masses of hair. He decided to do something about it.

“Would you like a rubber-band or something for your hair? Would you like me to help you with it?” Sherlock looked at him, for the first time fully looked at him at his own volution.

“I am not supposed to do anything with my hair. Only my dom is.” He whispered his answer and Greg nodded.

“Well, your dom isn't here, is he?” Sherlock struggled with his thoughts but finally he lightened up.

“You could do it, Greg. Please?” Greg nonchalantly shrugged.

“I could do that, yes. But I will simply show you what to do so you can do it all by yourself tomorrow .”

“Yes, Greg.” Greg was pleased for now and gestured him over to sit on the bed. Normally he would have made him sit on the ground so he could reach him from a sitting position but he didn't want him to sit on the ground. That's why he climbed up on the bed and knelt behind him. His fingers moved through his hair. He already had a thick rubber-band in his pocket. He braided the masses of dark curls but not too tight. He slung the rubber-band over the hair at the bottom. He had a look at him and was rather pleased with his work.

“Very well. That way it won't be in the way. You can decide later what you want to do about it.” Now Sherlock didn't answer but carefully touched his head and reached over to touch the braided hair.

“Thank you. It really is much better.” He stood and expectantly looked at Greg.

Suddenly it knocked on the door.

“Yes?” Greg called out and a member of security opened it.

“The doctor has arrived. Where do you want him?”

“Let him in here and tell Mr Holmes, please.”

“We already alerted him but he is on the phone with the Prime Minister.”

“I see. Well, get him up here, will you? Thanks.” The guard nodded and a minute later Dr Kim appeared.

“Good morning, Sherlock, DI Lestrade. How are you doing?” He openly looked at Sherlock who looked at Greg in return.

“Well, tell him, Sherlock.” Sherlock swallowed and looked back to Dr Kim.

“I slept. I had breakfast. Good breakfast. I showered. Greg made my hair.” Greg remembered the most eloquent Sherlock Holmes who spoke so fast about his deductions that you almost thought he never needed to breathe. And now this. He hated it. But Dr Kim didn't seem to mind.

“That sounds very good to me, Sherlock. And do you feel any pain somewhere? Did you sleep all through the night?”

“My backside still hurts. Some of my scars are itching and pulling my skin. I slept without waking.” Dr Kim nodded.

“Very good. I would like to examine you. Could you please undress for me?” At once Sherlock started to shed his clothes and neatly placed them on the chair again. Greg made a few steps back but didn't leave the room.

Dr Kim moved Sherlock on his side so he could have a look at his anus. He donned gloves and carefully parted his cheeks. Greg stretched his neck and again saw faded bruises and scars. He saw the protruding ribs, too.  
He also saw how gentle Dr Kim was with Sherlock. He only flinched once and Dr Kim stroked over his hips to calm him down. Finally, he injected some cream directly into his body.

“Very good, Sherlock. Thank you.” He moved him on his back and gently touched his cock and the Prince Albert. That one couldn't be simply removed. He needed a strong tool for this. The skin wasn't damaged though. His last look went up to his nipples and the same here. The rings were all closed forever and could not be simply removed.

Dr Kim grounded his teeth and looked up at Greg who came closer again.

“Sherlock, Dr Kim would like to remove the rings. Would you like that?” He sat by his other side.

Thousand thoughts raced through Sherlock's brain. He remembered the moment when his nipples were pierced and the Prince Albert was attached. John had done it himself. It had hurt so much. Sherlock had never liked it. He had begged him not to pierce him but he had only laughed.

He hadn't been allowed to touch. Only his dom was. Or the man who had come for the films with him. But his dom was gone. He wasn't here. Greg was though and he had asked him. Dr Kim was here to help him, too.  
Sherlock looked up at Greg and opened his mouth. It took him a few seconds but he finally spoke up.

“Yes, I would like that.” A broad smile shone on Greg's face and he rubbed his hands.

“Very good! Dr Kim, what do you need?”

“I need a strong pair of tweezers. Cook them in boiling water and I will take care of the rest.” Greg dashed downstairs to do just so. Upstairs in the meantime, Dr Kim took Sherlock's pulse and checked his blood pressure. Everything was very low but not dangerously so.

“So far I am rather pleased. You will need to eat more and perhaps your brother will let you into his precious gym. You need to build up muscles. I don't want to see any of your ribs in a few weeks’ time.”

“Yes, Dr Kim.”

“I will leave a few recipes for you to cook. They will help you regain your strength.”

“Yes, Dr Kim.”

“Who did your hair?” He asked all of a sudden and it surprised Sherlock.

“Greg did. He braided it. It is very long, you see? But I am not allowed to cut it.”

“I am sure it was the same person who told you not to touch your rings, right?” Sherlock nodded.

“And what did Greg just tell you, Sherlock?”

“He is not here.” It sounded more like a question but Dr Kim nodded anyway.

“So?” Just the one word.

“I can do something about it?” Dr Kim smiled.

“Yes, you can. Very much so. Talk to DI Lestrade about it. I am sure he will be of assistance.” Right then Greg returned with a bowl holding the tweezers. He also had gloves on. Dr Kim donned fresh ones, too, and took the tweezers.

“Please, get on your back again and try to relax.” Dr Kim gently touched his sternum and looked at him.

“Is it going to hurt a lot?” Sherlock quietly asked.

“It is not going to hurt at all. I am very careful and just pull them out after having broken through the metal.”

“Greg, please...” Sherlock held up a shaking hand and Greg sat on the bed and held it.

“Hush, it will be just fine. You will feel so much better afterwards.” He pressed his hand while Dr Kim snapped the first ring off and pulled. Soon the second followed while Sherlock stared into Greg's eyes to ground himself.

Greg wondered where the fuck Mycroft was hiding. He really needed to talk to him. Soon. Urgently. Without Sherlock present.

Dr Kim dropped the rings on the night-stand but Sherlock's eyes didn't leave Greg's.

“Very good, now the last one.” Sherlock's grip tightened and his lips opened. He breathed heavier and Greg pressed back.

“You are very brave. You can do it. Try to relax. Look at me.” Sherlock panted when Dr Kim took his cock. He flinched when hearing the noise. He felt the ring being removed. Then it suddenly felt lighter down there and he dared to look. The ring was gone.  
Sherlock looked up at Dr Kim.

“Thank you...” A single tear ran over his cheekbone and he quickly cast his eyes. Dr Kim gathered his things and stood.

“I am very pleased so far. I will be back tomorrow to have another look at you, Sherlock. I will leave some ointment for your chest and groin.”

“Thank you, Dr Kim. See you soon.” Greg said and Dr Kim left. Now Greg let go of Sherlock's hand.

“See? It wasn't that bad, was it?” He smiled.

“You were right. It does feel much better. I am glad they are gone.” Both of them now looked at the discarded and destroyed rings on the night-stand. Greg stood and brought back the bin where the silver chain already rested in. He held it up and raised a brow. Sherlock snatched them and quickly dropped them into the bin. He swallowed and stared into it.

“I would … I would like … I want them to burn...” He roughly whispered.

“We could do that tonight in the garden. We can have a ceremony and drink wine while the fire is burning.” Sherlock looked surprised but a smile came up already. He nodded.

“Yes, I'd like that.”

“Very good. Then you should get dressed again and we will find something to do.” Greg returned the bin and taped a post-it on it to tell the maid not to empty it.

When he turned back, Sherlock was dressed and expectantly looked at him.

“Come on. We could sit outside if you like?” Sherlock quickly nodded. Outside sounded great.

Greg led him into the garden he had changed a lot since he had been with Mycroft. Now there were chairs and a bench, even a swing and a table. A closed parasol stood close by, too. Carefully Sherlock sat down and stretched out his long legs. Greg sat, too.

“Mycroft and I want to make you a room here. I suggested to look for some of your belongings. I will go back to Baker Street and look for them. I will also go shopping and find some decent clothes for you. You can't always wear Mycroft's, can you?”

“I suppose not.” He shook his head.

“What would you like from your place?” Greg asked.

“My dom has taken everything away. I own nothing anymore. It is all gone. He changed his old room into a play-room first. Then he changed my bedroom, our bedroom, into something else. First, it became a film studio. Then it was turned into a Victorian brothel. I don't know where he took my things. Perhaps they are all lost...” Sherlock looked so very sad.

Suddenly Mycroft appeared and carefully sat down, too. Greg didn't acknowledge him but Sherlock did.

“Myc, Dr Kim took them off.” A smile came back up.

“That's good, isn't it?” Sherlock nodded.

“Greg said you allow me to stay here with you. I would like that.” Sherlock quietly said.

“Of course. We will make a room ready for you.” Greg quietly snorted. Mycroft ignored it and kept talking.

“My team has searched your flat, Sherlock. All your things are still there. John Watson stored everything in 221C. He also had his place at 221C, a fully furnished flat.” Greg looked angry, very much so, but suppressed the emotion. Instead he offered.

“See? Now tell me what you would like and I will bring it.” Sherlock thought about it for a moment. He licked his lips and finally started to speak.

“I would like my violin, my table of elements, my bat and my skull. Perhaps a few books.” He expectantly looked at Greg.

“I will go at once.” Greg stood and cast a last glaring look at Mycroft. Then he left the brothers behind.

“How do you feel, Sherlock?” He asked.

“Much better. Can we look for a place? My room? Please?” He asked. He felt some energy coming back.

“Sure. Let's go.” They walked back upstairs and Mycroft showed him several guest-rooms. He wanted him to choose his own room and he did. He actually chose a room far away from the master bedroom. Perhaps he wanted to have some privacy? Mycroft didn't mind.

“Very good. What about the furniture? The bedding? The curtains?” Mycroft asked.

“It is very nice. I like it. When Greg brings back some things of …, of mine, it will be just fine.” They looked at each other and suddenly Sherlock started to yawn. Quickly he covered his mouth.

“I am sorry...” But Mycroft shook his head.

“No, don't be. Dr Kim's visit surely was exhausting. Rest for a while if you want.” Mycroft pointed over to the bed.

“May I rest in the garden, please?” A very quiet question but Mycroft was glad he did even ask.

“Of course. Do you need a blanket?” Sherlock nodded and Mycroft showed him several blankets in the wardrobe. He made him take one and carry it downstairs. He left him sitting outside on the swing.

“If you need anything, just come inside and into my office. You do remember where it is, don't you?” Sherlock nodded with his eyes already drooping. He was on his side in the swing and the blanket almost covered him completely. He was asleep in seconds and Mycroft left him. He was safe out there.

Mycroft returned into his office and sent a message to Gregory.

_“What did I do wrong to make you angry?”  
MH_

He placed the mobile on his desk and waited for the answer. Greg must be at Baker Street already. The reply came after two minutes.

_“You were avoiding your brother because you didn't know what to do.”  
GL_

Mycroft knew Gregory was right but he didn't have to like it.

_“I had an important phone call to make.”  
MH_

Surely Gregory would understand it was for the work?

_“Not all the time, I suppose. We will talk later.”  
GL_

Mycroft swallowed.

_“I love you. See you soon?”  
MH_

Standing in the middle of 221B's living-room Greg raised a brow. Mycroft was afraid he won't be coming back soon enough? What did he think? He shook his head. They really needed to talk.

_“I love you, too. Very much. I see you very soon!”  
GL_

He had already collected Sherlock's things and was now standing upstairs inside the play-room. He stared at the wooden cross. There were still some tiny bloody dots.

Greg looked around and saw many things he would never touch.

He really needed to talk to Mycroft and not only about his behaviour but also about his past as a dom.

***

Downstairs he sat down for a moment and looked around the flat some more. And he kept thinking about John Watson, Sherlock and just everything.

Greg sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. The pain Sherlock must have endured, the punishments, both mentally and physically, must have been simply unimaginable.

Greg had looked at everything, every item in the play-room and Sherlock's former bedroom. He had felt the cold anger bubbling up. Perhaps Mycroft had glimpsed a little bit of his expression before. It would explain why he had been hiding from him. Greg swallowed. He did need to talk to him, explain his actions and emotions. He surely would understand.

He sighed again and stood. He had collected everything Sherlock had asked for in front of the door. Now he wondered what else he could bring. Finally, he grinned. He collected everything Sherlock needed to set up a small lab with. Mycroft would probably kick his arse but he didn't mind. The main thing was that Sherlock was happy and kept busy.

At last, he called Sally Donovan and asked her to send some of his cold cases by courier to Mycroft's place. He would bring Sherlock back. And that was how it would work.

He stored everything inside his trunk and drove to several stores to buy clothes for Sherlock. He got him several pairs of jeans, t-shirts, sweaters, and jumpers. He also bought several pairs of shoes and outfits for the gym.

He was very pleased with himself and rode back home. Home. Actually, it was Mycroft's place but it sure felt like home. He hadn't been living at his own flat for ages. Sometimes he returned for documents or simply airing the place. But he actually lived with Mycroft now. He loved him very much and he sometimes wondered if he returned his feelings. He rarely ever said the words or showed him but sometimes he caught his eyes and they were wide in wonder.

Now, with Sherlock safe and around, he understood more and more how difficult it must be for Mycroft too. He wasn't that different from his brother; he only could hide it better. But deep inside he felt just the same.

Greg had never told him about his past as a dom, a rather strict one. That was actually why his wife had left him. It wasn't because of the many hours of police-work, the over-hours, or the danger. It was because she felt mistreated and he let her go.  
Afterwards he had only gone to clubs or picked someone up in a bar but he had never been in a serious relationship again. He wondered if he should have seen the danger coming from John Watson, should have seen the signs of abuse. Was he to blame for Sherlock's pain as well?

No, it wasn't his fault. It was John Watson's doing, his entire fault. He had abused and hurt Sherlock, had lured him into his trap. Sherlock had thought he loved him and he loved him back with everything he had. Perhaps he had even liked the sex with him, at the beginning he surely had.

***

Mycroft sat at his desk and stared into nothing. He had seen Gregory glaring at him. He had felt his anger. But he really had had no idea how to cope with his little sibling right then and there. That's why he hid from them. He could not watch Dr Kim remove the horrid signs of ownership or examine his brother. It had been too much.

Gregory did not understand his actions. He needed to talk to him. As soon as he was back, he would try to explain. And he would try to help more, help bringing Sherlock back.

He stood and walked back into the garden. He looked at his brother and wondered how it had come so far.

Suddenly there were steps on the hardwood and he slowly turned his head. Gregory was back and soon a smile came up. At home, he could let go of his control. With Gregory, he could show what he was feeling. He often wondered if it was enough.

He slowly stood to not wake his brother when he stepped outside. They looked at each other. Greg's eyes softened at once and he hugged him. This was unexpected but it made Mycroft happy. And he actually hugged him back. Strongly.

He could still feel that Gregory was so very angry but the anger wasn't directed at him. For a minute they didn't speak but sat down on the bench.

“What happened?” Mycroft quietly asked and Greg just shook his head trying to come down. He needed another minute to collect his words.

“I looked at everything myself. I looked at everything in 221B, everything John had used, had changed. It was horrible. What Sherlock had suffered, I can only imagine. Myc, he really needs us, our help and our love and protection.”

“I want to help. I really want to help. But before, I couldn't manage. I simply couldn't. I have been weak and I hated myself while hiding. I had read the report from my team who searched Baker Street. I didn't understand what half of it meant, what all the things were for.” He slowly shook his head.

“I know what you mean, Myc. And I need to tell you something, too. It is important for you to listen to me and understand.” Greg sounded very serious and it was a bit scary.

“Of course, Gregory.” Mycroft looked at him and he still was a bit clueless.

Greg exhaled and looked at him. And then he started to speak.

Afterwards, Mycroft just stared at him. Greg stared at his folded hands in his lap.

“Look at me, please?” Mycroft said. Carefully Greg looked up and Mycroft reached out for him.

“I know I am not very experienced. You know, I had never really, you know what. But when I met you, I fell in love with you. I kept watching you and finally, you came here and even returned my feelings. I still really don't know why. I surely had no idea about the things John Watson did. I mean, I heard of such things but no more. I need to tell you simply one thing. I know by heart that you would never do such things. Never ever. And there is one more thing I need you to know. I do love you very much, Gregory.”

They looked at each other and now it was Mycroft who cast his eyes. Greg was fairly surprised and he reached out. He took Mycroft's hand and held it.

“Your words mean everything to me. I am sorry if I scared you earlier. I didn't mean to. I admittedly was a bit pissed because you left me behind and let me do all the work. But I understand, I really do. From now on though, we will be in this together.” He lifted his hand and kissed his palm. And he smiled. Mycroft melted and returned the smile.

A soft moan let both men turn their heads. Sherlock was slowly waking up and started to move on the swing. He blinked his eyes open and focused on his brother. The moment of fear quickly disappeared from his eyes and he smiled. He sat up and rubbed over his eyes. Suddenly his stomach rumbled and he blushed. Greg grinned.

“Are you hungry again?” Sherlock carefully nodded. Greg stood.

“Well, so am I. Why don't you freshen up and help me prepare a late lunch?” At once Sherlock stood.

“Yes, Greg. Will you be joining us, Myc? I need to use the correct amounts.” He looked serious.

“Yes, I will be right with you.” He stood too. Sherlock followed Greg inside. Preparing food was something he could do. His dom had taught him everything he needed to know. He could even cook a several course menu. Lunch was simple.

“I will do it. Please, sit down, Greg. You have done so much for me already.” Greg looked at him for about a few seconds and finally nodded.

“OK. You will prepare lunch and I will tell you what I got for you.” Carefully Sherlock looked up. He was rather excited but didn't show it. He had hoped that his belongings were still around.

Automatically he started to mix butter with herbs for roasted bread. He also prepared a tomato salad. He found some smoked salmon and used that, too. At last he took the melon with prosciutto. He was very pleased with his arrangement and expectantly looked at Greg.

“Sherlock, you are a saint! And I didn't even start telling you what I found.” Sherlock didn't know how to react and just shrugged while setting up the table. Mycroft joined them and looked at the things on the table.

“Who else is going to join us?” He asked and Greg quietly laughed.

“Just sit with us and enjoy the food Sherlock prepared. You need to eat too.” Mycroft sat down and thanked Sherlock.

“It looks very tasty, little brother.” He just cast his eyes. This was what he had been trained for. Hosting his guests. Suddenly he felt very, very cold and his hands started to shake.

Greg saw what happened and how pale Sherlock had become. He reached out and took his hand. He lightly pressed it and spoke softly.

“Look at me, Sherlock. Whatever went through your brain right now, forget it. You are here with us. You are safe with us. You made a wonderful lunch and we both love you.” Mycroft looked at Gregory and then at his brother. He saw how far gone he was and snapped his fingers in front of his face.

Sherlock's head shot up and he focused on his brother. And Mycroft smiled.

“Why don't you play your violin for us tonight? Gregory found it and brought it home for you.” Greg was fairly surprised by Mycroft's action but it seemed to work because Sherlock visibly relaxed.

“You really found my belongings?” He quietly asked looking up at Greg.

“Yes, everything you asked for and a bit more. But that's a surprise and I will show you later. I also bought a lot of clothes for you.”

“Can I please eat first?” He quietly asked.

“Oh, we insist.” Mycroft said and pointed at the food.

***

A while later Greg cleaned the table and Mycroft showed his brother the things Greg had brought. They were already upstairs and inside his new room. Sherlock opened the cardboard box and slowly picked up his framed bat. He held it with both hands and stared at it. Suddenly tears fell down and he sobbed.

“You can't hit the nail properly when crying, darling little brother. Blow your nose and ask Gregory for some tools.” Mycroft smiled and Sherlock carefully placed the frame on a table. There also sat a box with Kleenex and he blew his nose. Then he took his skull and he actually smiled. The violin already sat on the table. Everything was perfectly in order and undamaged.

Greg had followed them upstairs and watched standing by the door. He was glad his idea had worked out. Sherlock turned to look at him. His face showed his happiness and his eyes were wide open.

“Mycroft says you can provide tools. Please, I need some to hang this up.” Greg moved closer.

“You want to do this by yourself?” Greg asked and Sherlock slowly nodded.

“Yes?” Greg grinned.

“Wonderful! I get the tools.” He turned around and disappeared. Sherlock looked at Mycroft who returned the intense stare. Suddenly Sherlock sat down by the desk.

“I am glad I am here with you... I never expected to get these things back. I am so happy now...” Mycroft came closer.

“I am very happy to hear that. You will always have a home here.” They smiled at each other and even though Sherlock's smile was rather tired it was good to see it.

“Here come all your tools. Do you need any help?” Sherlock slowly took a hammer.

“I am not sure actually.” Sherlock chose a nail and held it up. Then he looked at the frame.

“Let me see.” Greg stepped up and cast a glance at Mycroft who knew he was of no assistance here but didn't want to leave them alone. But when looking into each other’s eyes, Gregory understood and smiled.

“I have some work to do. You two know where to find me.” And he left Sherlock's room who looked at his back. Then he looked at Greg again.

“He does not know what to do up here.” A small smile was on his lips and Greg returned it.

“I guess you are right.” Sherlock looked at several places at the walls and finally held the nail above the desk. He hammered a while and finally was able to hang up the frame with the bat inside. He made a few steps back and looked. Greg stood by his side and looked, too.

“Very exact, Sherlock. Perfect.” He rubbed his hands. Sherlock actually felt warm and pleased when Greg praised him. He knew it wasn't the same but it was good anyway. He fully relaxed and chose the next nail for his table of elements.

“I believe you need to drill this one. It is too heavy for just two nails.”

“Oh.” Sherlock put the nail down.

“I don't know how to do that.” He looked at Greg and now was a bit scared if he failed.

“Never mind. I will show you.” And Greg did exactly that. He knew Sherlock was skilled and not clumsy. He also wanted this and if he set his mind to it, it surely should work. He would never try this with Mycroft who had enough people to do these things for him. But this was not how Greg grew up. He still wasn't used to all the people in this household but he appreciated the high maintenance tools Mycroft provided for his people.

Soon enough the table of elements hung on the wall, as well. The skull found his place on the mantle and the violin case was placed by the sofa on a coffee-table. Sherlock was a bit sweaty but it was good. Soon enough Mycroft returned holding a laptop.

“I believe you have finished? The horrible noises have stopped at last.” He pulled a face and for once Sherlock did not look affected.

“Yes, we are done. Look, Myc, this is me again...” He pointed at the walls and Mycroft nodded.

“It sure is. And I brought you this, little brother.” He placed the computer on the desk and added a mobile, too. Greg decided it was time to work on some files. By the look at Sherlock's face, he was ready enough.

Greg knew that Sherlock's old computer and mobile had been taken away by John. They were examined at Baskerville right now to find out if John Watson had used them for his businesses.

Slowly Sherlock walked up to the table and picked up the mobile. He turned it between his long fingers and finally switched it on. It was brand-new and secured with special software. Greg had the same and he loved the gadget.

Sherlock fiddled with the controls and tried several apps. He was far gone and looked concentrated. Greg looked at Mycroft and both men smiled looking at Sherlock again.

“Thank you, Myc.” Sherlock suddenly said looking up.

“You are welcome.” He really wanted to ask him about his hair and he would do it. It wouldn't be an easy task but he would try. He had promised Gregory to help and he would help.

Greg was able to see that Mycroft came up with something and he took all the tools and carried them away.

“Sherlock, I want to ask you a question.” Sherlock looked up but didn't put the mobile away.

“Yes, Myc? What do you want me to do?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft swallowed.

“I don't want you to do anything you don't want. I just have a suggestion to make.” He came a bit closer.

“Yes?” Sherlock wondered what was coming up. He dreaded new changes. They were exhausting. But he owed his brother so much.

“I wondered if you would like to do something about your hair.” Mycroft carefully said looking at his younger sibling.

“My hair?” He touched his head.

“It's very long. It must be heavy, too.” Mycroft pushed a bit more.

“But I can't. My dom doesn't...” Then he stopped talking and stared at his brother who simply waited.

“My dom isn't ruling over me anymore. I don't have a dom. I don't need a dom like him.” He panted and there were red dots appearing on his cheeks. Mycroft still looked at him and waited for the outbreak.

“I want them off!” Sherlock suddenly blurted out the words pulling at his hair.

“Very good! I'll get you something to cut them off!”

“I want to come with you!” They both hurried downstairs and into the kitchen where Mycroft opened one drawer after another until he found a rather large pair of scissors. He offered them to Sherlock who gingerly took it and looked at it.

“I need a mirror.” He muttered.

“We shall go into the hall.” Both brothers hurried out of the kitchen and ended up in front of the large mirror hanging there right behind the door. Sherlock stared at his image. From behind Mycroft looked over his shoulder and slowly stepped to the side to give him the needed room.

With twitching fingers, he grabbed his braided hair and held it up. His other hand held the pair of scissors. He swallowed and closed his eyes for a second. And then he closed the blades.

Two seconds later he held his hair into the air and looked at it. Then he looked into the mirror. Now he already looked much better with it ending just a tiny bit over his ears.

“Come here, Sherlock.” He turned towards his brother who lifted his hands. Sherlock suddenly knew what he was up to and lowered his head a bit. Mycroft moved his fingers into his hair and ruffled it. Both men quietly laughed and it warmed Mycroft's heart.  
Sherlock remembered his brother had done that when he was younger. He had always ruffled his hair. He had always liked to do that.

Greg watched them from the doorway. He saw Sherlock still holding the braided hair and quickly dashed upstairs to grab the bin. He could burn the hair tonight too.

***

Sherlock rested for a while before dinner. And he rested in his new room. He liked it a lot. It was comfortable and quiet. He leant against the headrest and examined his new computer. It was high-end and he loved it. He hadn't worked on a computer for a long time because John hadn't allowed it and taken his away. He was to concentrate on his behaviour and work on that. But now he enjoyed fiddling with the security and all the programs and little gadgets this one had.

Suddenly it knocked and he looked up.

“Yes?” He called out still not being used to his privacy. But it was Greg who opened the door holding his work-bag under his arm.

“I wondered if you would like some work before dinner?” He asked coming closer. Sherlock closed the lid and stood.

“Work?” He asked looking a bit confused.

“Yes, I brought work home like I always do.” Now Sherlock's eyes focused on his bag.

“I remember you bringing me work into Baker Street. Cold cases, boring, and interesting cases.” Greg opened his bag and got out several folders.

“These are some cold cases that have come up. I have a lot to do and wondered if you might have a look at them?” He held them out and Sherlock wasn't able to move, couldn't raise his hands to take them.

He suddenly remembered how his dom had taken everything away from him. He wasn't allowed on crime-scenes anymore. At first it had only happened once in a while but not long after he stayed at home all the time. Naked and collared.

But now his dom was gone. He had been taken away and Sherlock was free to do what he desired. And he wanted to help Greg. He wanted to get back to work. Again, he swallowed and then very carefully reached out.

Greg stood still right there and offered them. He hadn't said a single word and had just waited for him to move. Now Sherlock licked his lips and took the folders. He carried them over to the desk and took the first one. He opened it and scanned through it.  
At first, he couldn't work it out and he actually became angry. His hands started to shake and he blinked several times. Greg left him alone and just watched. Sherlock forgot all about him and read it again. And then another time.  
When he started to mutter and sat down, Greg left him alone to get him some paper and pens. He knew he had always written down his ideas and clues in a small Moleskine. He had got him one when he did his shopping-tour and now he placed it by his side on the table together with some pens.  
Sherlock hummed and grabbed it. Greg watched him for another minute and then just left.

***

Mycroft shut down his computer. Tomorrow he would have to leave for Baskerville. He needed to tell Gregory. But should he also tell Sherlock? Was he ready for that? But should he lie to him instead? He chewed on his lips and walked upstairs to change. Gregory had informed him by text that he should prepare for a barbecue. Since Gregory had taken over the garden, he owned a huge barbecue grill. He sighed carefully hanging up his suit. Only clad in his boxers he stood inside his wardrobe and wondered what to wear.

Suddenly there was Gregory with him.

“Hey, handsome.” He whispered and hugged him from behind. Mycroft still wasn't used to it and tensed. But after a few seconds his hands covered Gregory's and he leant back.

“Hey...” He relaxed and enjoyed the tiny kisses Gregory placed on his neck.

“Sherlock is working on my cold cases.” Mycroft smiled.

“Very good, isn't it?” Greg nodded and hugged him tighter.

“I should think so.” They swayed on the spot for a minute and enjoyed each other’s presence.

“You should get dressed since we don't have a pool that would give you an alibi wandering about the garden like this.” Mycroft shuddered.

“Even if we had such a thing, I would never do it.” Greg sighed pecking a kiss on his freckled shoulder and let go.

“I know, I know.” He gave him a push forward and stepped back.

“We will be having a barbecue. No fancy suits. Pick some comfies. Go on!” He turned away because he knew Mycroft didn't like to be watched.

“I know that since you have texted me about your plans.” Mycroft murmured but picked a pair of elegant denims and a t-shirt. Greg had bought all this with him and of course all these were brands. He wore his shoes without socks and didn't look into the mirror when he turned around to face Gregory.

“You look great. Come here!” Greg said and spread his arms. Mycroft hurried to oblige and at once felt much better. He also knew what Gregory would do next and right he was. His fingers went up and tousled his ginger hair until he was pleased.

“I love you very much. Let's go and get the food.” They looked at each other. Mycroft simply smiled.

“I will take care of the barbecue grill.” Greg rubbed his hands.

“Caveman!” Mycroft exclaimed but grinned. Greg shook his head and disappeared outside while Mycroft opened the fridge and placed some marinated beef and chicken on the counter. He took a large tray and placed everything he thought they might need on it.

Inside the fridge, he also found two bowls with freshly made pasta salad and rice salad. He raised a brow. He hadn't ordered his staff to prepare anything and really wondered when and how that had happened. But he took them out, too.

To his great astonishment, he found he liked this. He liked wearing his new outfit and he liked to sit outside with Gregory and a barbecue grill. He fiddled with some kitchen foil and suddenly heard steps coming downstairs. He looked up and saw Sherlock enter the kitchen. He had been showering and his face had a nice glow.

“You are right on time, little brother. Gregory is heating up the grill right now and I am collecting the food.”

“I prepared these earlier. I hope you will like it.” Sherlock pointed at the bowls.

“I should have known it was you. They look very tasty and I look forward to trying them.” Sherlock relaxed.

“What did you do all through the afternoon? Gregory told me he brought you something to work on?” Mycroft asked. He wanted him to speak.

“I worked on his cold cases. At first, it was difficult. It felt like my brain wasn't able to work as it did before. I was very angry and I welcomed the emotion. Any emotion is good. Feeling is good. Letting it out is good.” Mycroft wondered if he also had worked on his computer and researched his mental health.

“Anyway, it took me some time but finally my brain booted up again. It just needs some exercise.”

“I am sure, Gregory will provide it.” Mycroft smiled.

“I solved them all. I am just a bit of insecure if I did it right.” Sherlock shook his head and Mycroft wondered if he should suggest a visit to a hair-stylist. It would also be a good training exercise for Sherlock. Go outside and visit a shop. He wouldn't call it a training exercise though.

“Gregory will appreciate it.” Meanwhile, Sherlock had looked over the tray.

“Do you have any dips?” Sherlock asked.

“Dips?” Mycroft sounded flabbergasted. Sherlock opened the fridge.

“I will mix some. It's no problem.” Mycroft thought about Sherlock's experiments with chemistry in his younger years and swallowed. Sherlock thought about his dom's cooking lessons and swallowed too. But at least now they came in handy. Plus, they were memories that didn't cause him any pain or made his brain melt remembering them.

“I will carry this outside.” Mycroft lifted up the tray and it was rather heavy. He made a sound but managed. Perhaps he should change his workout plan. He made a mental note to himself to do just that.

Sherlock started to mix some dips and also prepared a herbal butter. He was washing his hands under the sink in the kitchen when the butler returned from his day off.

“Master Sherlock, you could have told me you planned a barbecue. I would have helped.” He said looking at the chaotic display. Sherlock looked up. He didn't like to be called _Master_. He must speak to Mycroft about it so he could speak with the butler. Surely, he could make him change that.

“No, it's all fine. I am just cleaning up and then I'll be gone.” But the butler shook his head.

“No, you go and enjoy your barbecue. I'll clean up.” Sherlock looked up.

“But I understand this is your day off. You are not supposed to work.” Sherlock shook his head already filling the dishwasher. The butler didn't really know about what happened to his master's younger brother. But he sensed he needed to be handled with care. That's why he simply gave in.

“Very well. Thank you. Have a nice barbecue.” He nodded and left the kitchen for his rooms in the souterrain. Sherlock relaxed. He felt good. He had made him go away. This was his to do. He wanted to do it. Soon he had cleaned the surfaces too. He picked up the bowls and carried them outside. It already smelled very tasty.

“Dips?” Mycroft asked looking at the different bowls.

“Dips.” Sherlock replied nodding.

“Dips?” Greg asked turning his head and licking his lips. Mycroft just shook his head.

“I'll get us plates and napkins.” Sherlock said returning inside and they let him do it. Mycroft and Greg looked at each other and simply smiled.

“He looks much better.” Greg said quietly lowering the heat a bit. He wore cut-off denims and nothing else. Mycroft looked at him and again wondered why this so very attractive man loved him. He sat under a parasol. He was pale and had tons of freckles. He hated them but Gregory always kissed all over them. The same with his little pouch. He was running every day on his treadmill but it was never enough. He was very slim and tall. And his horrible ginger hair even coated his chest.  
Suddenly he realised that Gregory was staring back at him with a raised brow.

“What is it?” He asked and Mycroft blushed a bit having been caught. He cast his eyes.

“Nothing...” He replied. Gregory came over and his fingers carded through his hair.

“I know. I love you too. I also wonder why you love me. I am just a detective without the Holmes brain.” Now Mycroft looked up.

“You are everything...” Both men smiled and kissed once.

“We'll be talking later.” They let go of each other and Greg turned when Sherlock came back outside. He didn't seem to be disturbed by Greg being half-naked. He even looked at his cut-off denims and then at his own. He liked the look. It reminded him of being a pirate. Well, playing a pirate when he was a child.

“OK, people, first round is ready. Sherlock?” He took his plate and handed it to Gregory.

“Chicken, please.” It was still hard for him to ask for something but Greg just put it on his plate and handed it back.

“There you are. Myc?” While Mycroft got his smaller piece of beef, Sherlock took pasta-salad and some bread with dip. He completely unconsciously licked his lips and started to eat. He ate very slowly but he clearly liked it.

They enjoyed their food and Mycroft went inside to get them a bottle of wine. Sherlock tensed. He had forgotten the wine or any drink. He suddenly felt cold and Greg saw how he felt. He placed his hand on his arm.

“Look at me? You did so much. It doesn't matter.” Sherlock carefully looked up and relaxed a bit.

“It's difficult...” He whispered.

“I understand. What about a drink?” Sherlock shrugged. He hadn't had a drink for ages but he always liked it.

“Myc? Could you bring some whiskey too, please?” Greg called into the house. There wasn't a reply but the steps changed their direction and soon enough he returned with both whiskey and wine.

“I shall get glasses then, shall I”? He glared at Greg who grinned and nodded.

“You better shall.” Sherlock watched them interact and understood they were loving each other. He had felt loved for a short time too. But then everything had changed. His dom only rarely ever told him the most important words in the world. Sherlock always had the feeling he had to work harder and better, behave more proper and be just better to hear the words, be treated tenderly. Most of the time though he was treated harshly, kicked around, and fucked brutally.

His mind had wandered away without him and his fork hovered over the meat. Beads of sweat ran over his forehead and he became clammy.

Greg saw something was wrong and he took hold of Sherlock's wrist.

“Sherlock, mate? What's wrong?” He lightly pressed his wrist and Sherlock blinked several times.

“Greg? I feel cold...” Sherlock barely got the words out.

“There is your brother returning with glasses. Here, have a drink.” Mycroft at once realised that Sherlock suffered and sat close to him. Greg filled the tumbler and moved it over to Sherlock who eyed it for a few seconds and then very carefully picked it up. He lowered his nose and inhaled the aroma. He closed his eyes and sipped. He licked his lips and then suddenly downed the rest of it.  
Greg topped up his tumbler and filled their own as well as the decanter Mycroft had brought. Greg knew he liked it neat and he obliged. He would have drunk out of the bottle.

“To you, Sherlock. Your new life. Your freedom.” Mycroft held up his tumbler and Greg followed suit.

“Sherlock, your happiness.” Sherlock held up his tumbler.

“Thank you so much.” They all downed their drinks and the mood became better. Sherlock's plate was empty soon and he sat back with his hands folded on his lap. Mycroft knew he had to do something about it and calculated the number of calories and the time in the gym. Suddenly he caught Gregory's eyes and simply stopped doing it.

“Another one, please, Gregory?” He held out his plate and Greg grinned. He gave him chicken this time. Then Mycroft even took bread, dip, and salad. He actually licked his lips. By now he actually enjoyed it.  
Sherlock watched his brother and wondered if he should ask for another one. It was hard but finally he looked up at Greg and held out his plate with a shaking hand.

“You too, Sherlock?” Greg asked taking the plate.

“Yes, please?”

“Which one?” Sherlock licked his lips and decided.

“Beef, please.” Greg actually chose a large piece and Sherlock's eyes widened in alarm.

“There you go, mate.” Sherlock stared at the huge piece of beef but then dug in. He also ate more salad and bread. Greg sat back down with them and ate some salad. This had worked out nicely and he was very pleased with himself.

After Sherlock had eaten everything that had been on his plate, he leant back and sipped the wine. His eyes were drooping but he looked sated. But suddenly he sat up straight and stared at Greg.

“What is it?” Greg asked wondering what had gone through his mind.

“We forgot the bin! We wanted to burn the things!” He said.

“We can still do that. Go and get it!” Greg urged him to move and he stood and hurried upstairs.

“What are you planning to burn?” Mycroft asked being a tiny bit worried.

“We threw the rings into the bin and also his hair. I suggested to burn it as a sign of freedom earlier today.” Greg explained and Mycroft nodded.

“That's actually a very good idea.” Sherlock returned carrying the metal bin. He placed it on the terrace. Greg handed over the bottle with whiskey and Sherlock poured some over the contents. Mycroft offered his lighter and Sherlock switched it on and dropped it inside, too. The flames burst up and destroyed everything slowly and effectively. Sherlock stared into the flames and felt great.

Greg looked at Mycroft and smiled. Mycroft tilted his head and looked at Sherlock who was trying to stay awake.

“Sherlock, go to bed. You are very tired.” Mycroft suggested gently shaking his shoulder. Sherlock's head shot up.

“I have to clean up first.” He looked at the table and the bin. But he failed to move and instead fell back on the chair.

“Oh...” A sound of confusion came out of his mouth and he looked utterly helpless.

“No, you don't have to clean up. You did so much already. Come on, get up and we will help you to bed.” Greg stood and took his arm. Sherlock stood again and swayed on the spot. Mycroft wondered if this was serious and if he needed Dr Kim.

“I'll take you to bed, Sherlock. Come on.” Mycroft took over and led him upstairs. Sherlock just walked along but standing in his room he muttered.

“Please, no gag, no cuffs...” Mycroft swallowed and felt the hate surge through him.

“You are at home, Sherlock. John Watson is not here. He won't do you any harm ever again.” Sherlock relaxed a little bit.

“Can you look at me, please?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock looked up and into his eyes.

“I'll sit with you until you are asleep. Both Gregory and I are here. You are not in any danger. You are safe with us.” Sherlock undressed and swayed into the bath. Perhaps they shouldn't have given him so much alcohol. He listened to the noises and something clattered on the tiles but Sherlock seemed to be fine.

Sherlock came back out and dropped dead on the bed. Mycroft pulled up the blanket and carded through his hair.

“Sleep, brother-dear.” Sherlock cast him a last look but then his eyes slowly closed and his head fell to the side. He slept. Mycroft took his pulse and it was getting better. He stood and left his room. Gregory had bought a baby-monitor and by now Mycroft was glad he had done so.

Downstairs Greg had shut off the grill and started to carry the left-overs inside. He was just covering the bowls with foil and stored them into the fridge.

“He is sleeping now.” Mycroft quietly said. Greg had poured him another glass of wine and shoved it over. Thankfully, Mycroft took it and drank.

“You are too pale. What happened upstairs?” Greg asked but Mycroft shook his head.

“Not now. I can't. I need to come down. Then I will think about tomorrow.” He replied. Greg raised a brow.

“You sound confused. I don't like you being confused because it's not right. What will be happening tomorrow?” He asked.

“I want a cigarette.” Mycroft suddenly said.

“I have some in my work-bag. I'll get them. Go back outside and sit down. I'll be right back.” Greg said.

“Bring the baby-phone, please.” Greg nodded and Mycroft walked outside and sat on the swing lightly kicking his feet and starting to swing. He waited for Gregory.

Upstairs Greg found the fags and picked up the phone. He quietly opened the door to Sherlock's room and had a look inside. Sherlock was on his side covered completely by the blanket. He faced the door and didn't move.

Greg joined Mycroft on the swing and lit a cigarette for him. Both men inhaled and closed their eyes.

“He asked not to be gagged and cuffed when I brought him upstairs.” Mycroft finally answered Greg's question.

“Fuck...” Greg swore and shook his head. Again, he was reminded of his past. Angrily he downed his drink.

“Gregory?” Mycroft's long fingers were wrapped around his strong wrist and he looked into his eyes.

“I know you would never do such things to me. Don't be so doubtful or angry with yourself.” Greg's eyes swam in tears when he shook his head.

“When thinking about what John Watson did to Sherlock, I can't be anything else but angry. He calls himself a dom but what he really is, is a mean sadist torturing the ones who just love to give out their love and devotion, who enjoy being dominated. I always loved my wife but in my younger years, I tended to be very strict. Too strict because she left me.” He drank some more.

“I wonder if I should have seen what happened to Sherlock. Perhaps I should have recognised John Watson.” He sadly shook his head.

“You are not to blame, Gregory. I am glad you are with me. You have shown me life. Finally, I allowed myself to love someone.” He took his hand and kissed it.

“Wherever he is, I wish him to suffer!” Greg hissed out the words and his eyes had the certain glint again. By now, Mycroft knew it wasn't directed at him.

“Do you trust me?” Mycroft asked and Greg's head came up.

“You know I do. What is it?” For a second Mycroft cast his eyes but looked back up after two seconds.

“Tomorrow, I will go to Baskerville to interrogate John Watson.” His voice was very calm.

“Interrogate?” Greg asked utterly astonished.

“Yes, we need to find out about his connections to the criminal underground. He must have known people before. We need to find out everything we can.”

“I know but what I meant to ask was something else.”

“Well, when I say interrogate...” Mycroft's smile was a bit crooked.

“I would like to offer my assistance but someone needs to stay with Sherlock.” Greg said.

“Indeed. And I trust you with my little brother, Gregory. I will call you as often as possible.”

“How long will you be gone?” Greg asked.

“I am not sure. Perhaps two days.” Mycroft replied and Greg sighed.

“I would like to take you to bed. Please, be with me and let me make love to you.” Greg whispered. Mycroft simply stood and kept holding his hand. They placed their glasses and empty bottles in the kitchen and disappeared upstairs.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The next morning Sherlock woke all on his own. He had slept deep and dreamless and felt rather good. For once he wasn't hungry and suddenly remembered the barbecue and the burning bin. He sat up in bed and smiled.  
He slowly stood and had a shower. He dressed in fresh clothes and felt free. He actually felt much better after yesterday.  
He opened the door and walked downstairs to prepare breakfast but when he entered the kitchen the butler already was busy as was a cook and a maid. They all turned around when he stood there.

“Mr Holmes, the younger, good morning. Your brother and DI Lestrade are outside already. Just join them. Breakfast will be about ready.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock felt helpless because he had nothing to do. But he went to join his brother and Greg. They looked relaxed and Greg poured him a coffee.

“Good morning, Sherlock.” He sat down and drank the coffee. He felt more secure doing all this and finally he wished them a good morning, as well. The butler and the maid brought out their breakfast. Sherlock felt weird being served but he had stopped shifting so restlessly when being insecure.

“You are dressed for business, Myc. Where are you going?” Sherlock asked. Mycroft almost choked on his toast. He quickly drank some water.

“I have several appointments to attend. I am sorry I have to leave but you are safe with Gregory. He won't have to go to work.” Mycroft said.

“When will you be back?” Sherlock asked.

“The day after tomorrow.” Mycroft replied.

“I see.” Sherlock nodded and then looked at Greg.

“I can explain my deductions if you like?” He offered and Greg at once nodded.

“Sure! I was wondering about it already.” Sherlock seemed to be pleased with the situation and started on his breakfast.  
Mycroft checked his watch and stood.

“I have to go. See you in two days’ time.” Sherlock quickly stood and awkwardly hugged him. Greg walked him to the door.

“Don't worry. Call me. Hurt him for me. I love you.” They kissed and Mycroft promised to do everything.  
Greg closed the door and joined Sherlock back at the table. He looked at him.

“I know where he is going.” Sherlock said buttering another slice of toast.

“You do?” Greg asked pouring more coffee.

“I regained some of my mental abilities. Myc has gone to Baskerville. He will probably interrogate my dom. Former dom. He needs to find out about his connections.” Sherlock bit into the toast. He seemed to be cool about it.

“You are right, of course. I am sorry for not having told you.” But Sherlock shook his head.

“I know you are protecting me. But I want to know about it. Don't hold anything back.” Sherlock said.

“Promise.” Greg replied smiling.

“You know, I wonder how you even found out about me? I know you have been coming to 221B but then you left again. I was happy to see you back then but I wasn't able to do anything.”

“Someone owed you a favour. She saw one of your little films and knew she had to do something about it.”

“She?” Sherlock exclaimed and his brain geared up. Greg just looked at him.

“ _The woman_.” Now he even smiled. Greg nodded.

“Yes, it was her. She sent one of her girls. You met her. She even came over to see Mycroft and told him everything. He faked the court trial. We knew John Watson couldn't hold you back from witnessing and there we got him. And you. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you back.” Greg said.

“Sometimes I am still confused but it is getting better. I am not hungry anymore. I am not in pain anymore. I know I am safe here, welcome in your household. But I can't live here for the rest of my life.” Sherlock shook his head.

“You will be on your own again. You will observe and deduce again. But it will take time.” Greg said.

“Yes, it sure will. I am sad I lost my flat. I always loved the place. Mrs Hudson took good care of me but soon after John came into my life, she became sick and had to go into a home for the elderly.” He sadly shook his head.

“Are you saying that Mrs Hudson doesn't live at Baker Street anymore? I was wondering why I never saw her again. She always used to be around bringing tea and biscuits.” Greg said. Then they looked at each other. Sherlock swallowed.

“Oh God, do you think he had something to do with it?” He asked and sounded horrified.

“I think we need to find out. But I have to go into the office. I can't access the needed databases from here.”

“Yes, you can. We will use Myc's office.” Sherlock already stood.

“But his computer is password protected.” Sherlock grinned. And Greg knew he was back. He had something to work on.

“Please...” Greg and Sherlock hurried into Mycroft's office and closed the door behind them. Sherlock sat right down and opened the laptop. Greg pulled up a chair and sat by his side. Sherlock wildly typed for several minutes and Greg became dizzy but finally the logo of both MI 5 and 6 turned up on the screen.

Greg swallowed and looked at Sherlock who seemed to be unaffected. He just wiggled his fingers and typed some more.

After half an hour Greg's mobile dinged and he simply knew who had sent a text. He swallowed but opened the message.

_“What are you doing, Gregory?”  
MH_

“We have been caught.” Greg told Sherlock who just kept typing.

“Never mind. He won't shut us down. Just tell him why we were breaking and entering.” Sherlock said.

“Will do.” Greg leant back in the chair and started to text.

_”Found out that JW did something to Mrs H. Do research and rescue.”  
GL_

He sent the text and waited. The reply took a bit longer.  
 _”I'll have Anthea assist you. She'll be over soon.”  
MH_

Greg showed the text to Sherlock who simply nodded.

“We could need her help. I simply can't go out yet. And you won't leave me alone. She can do it.” They looked at each other.

“You are right. When do you think...” Right then the doorbell rang and soon enough the butler appeared with Anthea. He knew her and just left again. Greg politely stood and came around the desk.

“Myc told me you were coming over. We appreciate it.” They shook hands and Anthea quickly scanned Sherlock's appearance. He knew her of course but wouldn't look at her for long. She just took another chair and sat by his other side carefully avoiding to crowd him. Instead she looked at the screen.

“What have you found out so far?” She asked. At the same time, she made a mental note to change security again.

“We have found her. She has been taken into a home for the elderly at first and from there she was taken into an asylum.” Sherlock spat out the words. This was his fault. She probably had wanted to help him and John Watson had taken care of her. He probably knew some fellow doctors who would do what he asked and in return gain some favours. Sexual favours probably.

He had hacked into her medical file and showed the medication to both Greg and Anthea. Her eyes widened and she quickly stood.

“I believe I need to hurry. I will get her out of there right away. Don't worry. I'll call you as soon as possible.”

“Please be careful. Take some back-up. Safe her, please?” He carefully touched her arm and she felt him tremble. She smiled and took his hand.

“You can trust me with her well-being. She will be safe soon and you can visit her.” He smiled a tiny smile and let go.

“Thank you...” She nodded towards Greg and hurried away already typing on her mobile.

Meanwhile, Sherlock hacked himself into his brother's CCTV. Greg's eyes widened.

“This is right in front of my flat!” He stared at the screen.

“Myc watched you for quite a while from the distance, it seems. It's because he never dared to speak up.”

“Jesus! And this is right in front of my office. And my pub.” Greg shook his head. How much time had they wasted?

“Don't be angry with him, please? He loves you very much.” Sherlock looked at him.

“I love him, too. But this is just weird.” Greg shook his head.

“Anyway, this is the camera in front of the asylum. We can watch Anthea's rescue attempt live.” They leant back in their chairs and watched.

***

Anthea in the meantime had texted her boss who had given her the final go. She called in assistance and an ambulance. She met the security team in front of the asylum located close to Heathrow. She showed them a picture of Mrs Hudson and they entered the place.

Anthea marched right through and passed the reception desk without acknowledging the person behind it. She wanted to pick up the phone but was stopped by security. Sherlock had found out the room where Mrs Hudson was held captive and she once inhaled before opening it.

Mrs Hudson was only a shade of her former self but she was looking up at her from the bed. They had restrained her and probably she was on drugs too. Anthea grounded her teeth and opened the cuffs.

“Mrs Hudson, my name is Anthea, I am the assistant to Mr Mycroft Holmes. We will be leaving here.” She gently helped her up into a sitting position. She only wore one of these ugly hospital gowns and Anthea shed her own jacket and placed it around her thin frame.

“Sherlock?” She weakly rasped and it made Anthea smile.

“We got him already. He is safe and with his brother and DI Lestrade.” She smiled and relaxed a bit. But then she looked alarmed.

“Dr Watson?” Fear shone in her eyes and Anthea held her by the shoulders.

“In custody. Mr Holmes is interrogating him.” They looked at each other.

“Well, I hope he will do much more than only interrogating him.” Her voice was still weak but she would be fine again soon.

“Let's leave this ugly place, shall we?” Anthea said helping her up. Mrs Hudson stood but her tiny body shook.

“I will get a wheelchair.” Anthea said but was held back.

“No. I will be walking outside. You have to shut down this place. There are many more like me.” She looked at her.

“We surely will have a closer look. The managers have already been arrested and a medical team has just arrived.”

“Very good.” She sighed and nodded.

“Let's get out of here. Wherever to.” She slowly started to walk holding on to Anthea.

“I will take you to Mr Holmes' place. DI Lestrade and Sherlock are there. I am sure they would like to see you and take care of you.” Anthea said and when seeing the smile on the old woman's face she knew it had been a good idea.

“You know, I saw what that so-called doctor did to Sherlock. But Sherlock was madly in love with him and wouldn't listen to me. Finally, it was too late and I was drugged and taken away. First, I woke up in that home but soon after I ended up here. The doctors all knew John Watson. They thought I couldn't hear or understand what they were talking about but I surely could. John Watson paid them a lot of money to keep me here. The latest thing they were given were some films they were boasting about. I really didn't want to know...” She sadly shook her head.

“I failed him...” She started to cry and Anthea was very moved. Her face didn't show though. She handed over a pack of Kleenex and helped her outside. She blew her nose standing in a light breeze. Her bare legs were pale but she kept walking.

“You did not. You couldn't have done anything. But now it is over. Sherlock is safe and so are you.” She placed her on the passenger seat and buckled her in. She also gave her a bottle with water and she emptied it at once.

“Mr Holmes' personal doctor will have a look at you later. You can trust him. He already takes care of Sherlock. I am sure Sherlock will be happy to make a room ready for you.”

“What about my house?” She quietly asked.

“Baker Street is fine. Nothing is damaged. But Dr Watson changed a lot in 221B and C. Our teams are already in there collecting evidence and rebuilding. You don't have to worry. But you shouldn't be there just yet. Not alone.” She sighed.

“I guess you are right.” She looked out of the window while Anthea rode through London and returned to Mycroft's house. She had already sent a text to Sherlock and informed him that everything was alright. She had also informed her boss and called Dr Kim.  
Now she parked the car in front of the townhouse and held open the door for Mrs Hudson. She helped her up the few stairs and brought her inside. Right then Sherlock dashed out of Mycroft's office and hurried over. He placed his large hands on her small shoulders and lowered his head.

“Hudders, I am so sorry...” He pecked a kiss on her forehead and she simply hugged him.

“There is no reason, young man. I am here right now and so are you. Nothing more is needed today.” They looked at each other and Greg joined them.

“Mrs Hudson, it is good to see you again.” He carefully hugged her, too.

“I think I need to sit down for a minute.” Mrs Hudson said and they quickly brought her into the living room. Sherlock sat down by her side and held her hand. Greg stood with Anthea.

“She looks so tiny.” He quietly said.

“She was cuffed to the bed when I found her. She urgently needs fresh clothes. I already called the team at Baker Street. They will pack some of her things and bring them over.” Greg nodded.

“Very good. She needs to get out of the hospital gown. But first Dr Kim should have a look at her.”

“I already told her. I also suggested she should stay here.” She looked at him.

“Of course, she will stay here! Sherlock and I would never let her leave!” He almost glared at her and she smiled.

“That was what I thought. Do not get upset, DI Lestrade.”

“I'll inform the staff to prepare her room.” He turned away and Anthea looked back at both Sherlock and Mrs Hudson. She was rather convinced that helping her would help Sherlock. He would talk to her and she would talk to him. Sooner or later they would both return to Baker Street and resume their old lives.

At least that was what she hoped for.

***  
About an hour later Dr Kim arrived and checked on Mrs Hudson. She was a bit malnourished and had been given drugs but as soon as they were out of her system, she would be just fine.  
Afterwards, he had another look at Sherlock and was very pleased with the result. Both Sherlock and Mrs Hudson were sleeping when he met DI Lestrade downstairs.

“Where is Mycroft?” Dr Kim asked drinking the tea he had been offered.

“At work.” Lestrade answered not knowing what Dr Kim knew.

“Well, he surely is not at Whitehall since I tried to reach him there.” Both men looked at each other and Greg didn't react. Dr Kim drank more tea.

“Well, never mind. I will tell you and you will tell him, won't you?” He said.

“I sure will.” Greg replied still leaning against the table right in front of Dr Kim. He didn't seem to be affected though. Instead he simply leant back into the chair looking up at him.

“I believe you are very good at interrogating people, too, aren't you?” He smugly smiled up at him and finally, Greg relaxed. He even smiled.

“I am very good at many things, Dr Kim.” They stared into each other's eyes when the doctor suddenly sighed.

“I really don't understand how a doctor could do such horrible things to another person. A person who loves him so much.” He shook his head staring into his cup.

“Dr Watson is a very sick man. A sadist who only takes care of his own well-being.” Greg murmured.

“Tell me, how does Sherlock behave around you? Does he show fear when you are with him?” Now they locked eyes again.

“Why would he? I helped to save him. I am taking care of him. I took over when Myc couldn't.” Greg was clueless.

“I can see what you are, DI Lestrade. And I am slightly worried about Mycroft and Sherlock. So please talk to me!” Dr Kim's voice had hardened and only now Greg understood. Dr Kim was asking because he knew he was a dom.

“I love Myc very much. When he finally came out, I was very surprised because I hadn't seen. I mean, I always liked him in a strange sort of way but I never would have thought. Anyway, I soon understood that he was rather naïve and innocent regarding the sex and I loved him even more.” Now he poured himself some tea, too.

“I have been living as a dom for ages. I had a wife and was too strict with her. She got a divorce and I let her go. I went to clubs for a few years after she left but gave up a while ago. Then I met Mycroft and I never once thought about domming him. I simply love him and enjoy life like it is right now.” He helplessly shrugged.

“And I know he loves you very much. I was the one he confided in. He told me when he was looking at you, he felt something he couldn't analyse.” Both men quietly laughed.

“He is a wonderful man.” Greg smiled dreamily.

“He was always very addicted and involved in his work. In his younger years, he was out in the field. But now, he holds his office of power in Whitehall. Sometimes he misses it, I think. Like now.” Again, they looked at each other.

“You know him since forever, don't you?” Greg asked becoming curious. Dr Kim nodded.

“We have been at university together. He was pulled into that secret business very early and he clearly enjoyed it. I never wanted such things. But I was happy for him. Finally, he was happy.”

“I bet he had the same problems Sherlock had, right?” Greg wondered.

“He sure had but he could cope better. Where Sherlock stroked back with words, he spun intrigues and destroyed them.” Greg's eyes widened.

“And he never... You know.” Greg raised a brow and Dr Kim sadly smiled.

“No, never. When everybody partied and used the chemistry lab to brew alcohol and other drugs, he was over his books. When everybody was having sex, he was already out on missions.” He poured more tea.

“Why does he call you Dr Kim?” Greg finally asked the one question that bothered him.

“It's his pet name for me. My first name actually is Kim. I always wanted to be a doctor. I became Dr Kim.” He shrugged.

“But if he trusts you with his health and everybody else's, you must be cleared. So, what kind of doctor are you?” Dr Kim politely smiled and shrugged.

“I have a doctor in several fields such as medicine, surgery, chemistry, biology and even psychology. Never mind history and politics.” Greg's eyes widened again. He actually was in awe.

“Amazing!” Dr Kim actually blushed and shrugged it off.

“I am working for the British government.” He gestured around and Greg laughed.

“But you surely know about Myc's titles?” Dr Kim looked at Greg who just shook his head.

“He has a title, too?” Dr Kim nodded.

“Oh, he sure has. History, politics, and psychology. He also is the heir of his father meaning he will get the seat when the old man dies.” Now Greg had to sit down.

“Are you talking House of Lords?” He whispered.

“Sure, what else would I...” Only now Dr Kim understood. He swallowed and emptied his cup.

“He will surely kill me. There must have been a reason why he never told you. I am sorry, DI Lestrade.” He stood and wanted to leave. Greg stood, too.

“Perhaps he just thought it would have been too much. I mean, my reaction when I saw this place was strong already. He probably believed when I knew the rest, I would run screaming.” Greg sadly shook his head.

“You are probably right, you know? Anyway, I have to go. I will be back tomorrow to have a look at both Sherlock and Mrs Hudson.” Greg nodded.

“See you then, Dr Kim.” They shook hands and Dr Kim left.

Greg took his cigarettes and sat outside with his feet on the opposite chair. His eyes were closed and he thought about Mycroft holding back all the private things. He actually was part of the British government or at least he would be time come. He would be Lord Holmes. He should call him _Sir_. Greg snorted.

Suddenly he felt the hunger gnaw through his intestines. He checked his watch and found it was almost dinner time. He hadn't prepared anything even though he knew that it was cook's day off. It would have to be take-away then. He didn't mind and knew Sherlock wouldn't either. But surely Mrs Hudson wouldn't approve.

He stabbed out his fag and returned inside to have a look into the fridge. But in the kitchen, he found a very busy Mrs Hudson with an apron. He just had to smile. She had taken an umbrella of Mycroft's and sometimes leant on it but didn't seem to feel too weak.

“Mrs Hudson, what are you doing?” She looked over her shoulder.

“What I always do, young man!”


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Several days had passed and Mycroft had come back from Baskerville. He hadn't told anything to anyone yet and no one asked. Sherlock knew better and Greg did, too.

Mycroft's team had managed to bring Baker Street back to its former self. He had checked it himself and shown Mrs Hudson the pictures.

“I would like to go home now. I do really hope Sherlock knows he is welcome back. I will miss him.” She looked at him.

“I am not sure if Sherlock is ready yet. I know he misses his home but there are so many memories in there. Very bad memories.” Mycroft thoughtfully shook his head.

“I know. But I keep hoping.” She stood and her tiny hands moved over her floral dress.

“Would you mind taking me home, Mr Holmes?” He stood and smiled.

“Not at all, Mrs Hudson. Perhaps I can talk Sherlock into visiting you in 221A.” He led her out to his waiting sedan and they rode away.

Upstairs Sherlock looked out of the window and saw the car disappear. He had said his good-byes earlier and was hiding now because he hated seeing her leave. Mrs Hudson was going back to Baker Street. He swallowed. He missed Baker Street. He wanted to be back, too. He also knew he wasn't ready yet.

He sighed turning away. He looked at his desk that was covered with Greg's cases. He had solved the cold cases already. Now he was working on actual cases. Mycroft had provided several white-boards so he would stop pinning things into the expensive tapestry. He was doing it anyway. He was also scribbling with water-proofed markers and he had a good time doing so.

Greg thought he was going back to normal and actually Mycroft felt the same. They were lounging in bed one morning after Greg had made love to him. Now he was sweaty and looked very much debauched. So did Greg.

“I wonder if I should take him on one of my crime-scenes.” Greg suddenly said. Mycroft turned his head.

“Let him out and play? Are you sure?” He asked moving his fingers through the hair on Greg's chest.

“I think he is ready. I don't know what he thinks though. I will need to ask.” Greg covered his hand.

“Did you talk to Dr Kim about it?” He asked rubbing over one nipple.

“No, not yet.” Then he groaned when Mycroft pulled it up and stared at it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked glaring at him. His cock tented the blanket already again.

“I wonder what it feels like.” Mycroft thoughtfully said. Greg didn't get it.

“What what feels like?” He asked and their eyes met for a second.

“Clamps. Piercings. Everything.” Greg felt the heat surge through his body. But it wasn't only heat. It was so much more and some of it wasn't good.

“Don't.” He pushed his hand off and rolled out of bed. He quickly disappeared into the bath. He had a very cold shower and made his erection disappear. He got into a thick dressing-gown and came back outside.  
By now, Mycroft sat against the headrest and pretended to read something using his laptop. He looked up and his eyes roamed over Gregory. He saw how agitated he was. He also seemed to be angry but the anger wasn't directed at him. It was directed at himself. But why?

Perhaps he shouldn't have touched him the way he had done. Perhaps he was doing it wrong. But whom else could he have asked the questions that raced through his mind regarding the sex in general and the things that had happened to Sherlock? Sexual things. Weird and painful things. What had Sherlock liked at first and even still later and why?

They were still looking at each other but soon enough Gregory walked into the wardrobe and came back out dressed in a tracksuit.

“See you later.” And he left without kissing him. Mycroft felt cold. This wasn't good. He was going to speak to his little brother. Perhaps he could provide some insights.

***

Sherlock heard the door close and looked out of the window in the living room. He saw Greg starting to run and he ran fast. He raised a brow. His moves weren't relaxed and his face looked unmoving. Had something happened?

He chewed on his lips and returned into the kitchen where he had started preparing breakfast. Cook wasn't yet up and he had taken over. He needed something to do, otherwise he would become mad. He snorted. His brain needed the work even though it was only breakfast to work on.

He set up the table outside and sat down with his first coffee. He waited for someone to join him. And he didn't have to wait long until his brother sat down by his side.

“Sherlock, you are up already.” Sherlock was buttering a toast.

“Mycroft, you are stating the obvious.” He looked up with a raised brow and it was so Sherlock, Mycroft relaxed. This was his brother and no matter what had been done to him, he would be here to listen and tell him his thoughts in this matter.

“I need to talk to you. Privately.” Mycroft said pouring coffee for himself.

“I saw Greg leave this morning. Did something happen? Did you have a fight?” Sherlock asked.

“I wouldn't call it a fight.” Mycroft replied eyeing the toast and eggs.

“Eat, Myc. Please. You have lost weight.” Sherlock said seriously. Mycroft sighed but took a plain toast and a few eggs.

“Greg told me something a few days ago. Since then I have been thinking about it. This morning I asked him a question. He did not like it. He took off. I could see he was angry but not at me. At himself.”

“Tell me. Perhaps I can help.” Sherlock offered. And Mycroft told him. Sherlock just looked at him for several seconds after and slowly put his toast back down on the plate. Then he leant back in his chair.

“Well, regarding the things that caused pain and I liked anyway, the answers are easy. The answer why Greg is angry at himself is more complicated. But I know him. I know of his past. And I am going to deduce something for you. But not now since he is coming back from his run and will soon join us.” Mycroft nodded.

“Later then.” He said drinking his coffee.

“Later.” Sherlock nodded and stood to brew more coffee.

***

Greg had joined them for breakfast after his shower. And now he kissed Mycroft good-morning and ruffled Sherlock's hair. Mycroft obviously relaxed.

Sherlock knew that he needed to talk to Greg after having talked to Mycroft. He had some ideas what went on in his brother's brain.

He didn't want them to have fights because of the sex. Mycroft needed to be happy. He deserved to be happy. And if he needed to ask questions or even experiment, then he should do just so. But he needed Greg to do so. Greg needed to provide assistance in this matter. They needed to talk. Urgently.

Breakfast was a quiet matter this morning. Sherlock told Greg he had solved every case he had been given. Greg was fairly surprised and promised to bring more after having checked through all the files with him. Sherlock was very pleased. He knew Greg would have to go back into his office to bring more cases. Then he could talk to his brother without being disturbed.

And right he was, Greg left after breakfast for Scotland Yard. For once, Sherlock let the staff clean the table and sat down with his brother. He knew this would be hard. Both for him and his brother. He knew Mycroft didn't want to hurt him. But he also knew he had no one else to talk about these private things.

He probably would have talked to Dr Kim if Sherlock couldn't be able to assist because of his mental stability. But Sherlock felt good. He had recovered. He knew John would never come back.

He ushered Mycroft into the library. They sat on a sofa and looked at each other. Mycroft sighed.

“This is not easy...” He shook his head.

“So, it seems.” Sherlock replied and simply waited for him to start.

“Since I found out what had been done to you, I thought about it. Since I have talked with you, I mean you said you liked some of what was done to you, and I know of Gregory's past, I wondered... Bloody hell, I don't know how to word this.” He angrily shook his head.

“Take your time. But you need to say the words.” Sherlock pushed just a little bit.

“This morning I touched Gregory. I took his nipple and pulled it up. I stared at it and asked that I wondered how it felt. The pain, the clamps, and the piercings. Gregory became angry and pushed my hand away. Then he disappeared into the bath, got dressed for his run and left. He was angry with me.” Mycroft looked confused and sad.

“I saw him leave. But you got it wrong. Yes, he was angry but not with you. His anger was directed at himself.”

“Will you be answering my question?” They looked into each other's eyes.

“I only can speak for myself.” Sherlock seriously said.

“Of course.” Sherlock exhaled and started to talk.

“The first days with John were like being in heaven. He was gentle and lovable. He actually deflowered me. It was wonderful. A while later he told me about his fantasies and his time as a dom. I had no idea what he was talking about and he explained it. Of course, he lied to me, gave me a light version, and made it interesting. I wanted to explore. You know how I am and John saw it, too.”

Sherlock's long fingers went into his lap and he twitched. But he kept talking.

“Well, you know how it all ended. I became addicted. I needed his praises to breathe, to live. I was desperate and tried harder and harder to be good for him. Meaning, to do what he wanted. Everything.” He raggedly exhaled.

“Soon he dished out punishments. He badly hurt me. He whipped me, paddled me. You saw my welts, my bruises. My scars. You saw the collar.” Completely unconsciously his hand came up and touched his neck. He even carefully scratched over his skin where only a few irritations were seen. Dr Kim had done good work.

Then he looked up again and swallowed. Mycroft took his hand and pressed it.

“But you are right. There are a few things I would still like to do. Or more, I would like being done to me.” Sherlock licked his lips and thought about how to tell his brother. He knew Mycroft never had had the sex before Greg. He had kissed and groped but never did more.

And he decided just to tell him. Perhaps it would help him, too.

***

Afterwards, Mycroft looked at his younger sibling. This had been enlightening. Sherlock and himself were almost the same. He understood why Sherlock had enjoyed. Only by listening to him, he had become hard. He was ashamed and his face was red. He also felt hot.

“I don't know what to say...” Mycroft slowly shook his head.

“You don't need to speak. I can see you are aroused. You would like the same things being done to you.” Sherlock said. Mycroft nodded.

“But obviously Gregory doesn't like the idea of doing these things to me.” He sadly shook his head.

“Greg is scared because he knows what he is capable of. He said himself he had been a strict dom. I believe he doesn't want you to be his submissive. And he also knows that it is impossible for him to simply play.”

“You know, I could never give myself away like this. This is not in my personality. But I would like to explore. So, if Gregory isn't willing to help...” Mycroft thought out loud and Sherlock looked up.

“What? What are you going to do?” He sounded worried.

“'I will find someone else to assist me.” Mycroft's voice showed that he had decided. This was not what Sherlock had wanted to achieve.

“You are actually planning to betray Greg?” Sherlock asked.

“I am not betraying Gregory. I love him. But I need to know.” He seemed more relaxed now and stood.

“Thank you, Sherlock, for listening to me.” He ruffled his hair and left the library.

Sherlock was quite a bit shocked. This was so not good. He urgently needed to talk to Greg now. Mycroft just couldn't go out and find himself some dom-whore to play with.

He stayed inside the library because it was nice and quiet in there. He listened in to the house and heard his brother enter his office. He also heard the door when Greg came back. He stood and exhaled.

“Sherlock? I am back!” Greg called out and Sherlock got ready.

“Library!” When Greg entered the library, Sherlock stood by the window and it seemed that he had been looking outside very thoughtfully. They looked at each other and Greg held up his bag.

“I got us new cases. They are actually very fresh and if you feel ready you could look at actual forensic evidence. I talked to Dr Hooper and she welcomes you back into the basement.” Greg actually grinned.

“I'd like that. But I don't want to see her. I can't see her. Everyone will laugh behind my back about me. They are wondering already how someone, someone like me, can be so stupid.” Sherlock sounded so very sad. Sad and angry.

“You know that isn't true. Dr Hooper would never laugh about you.” Greg said.

“Perhaps not Dr Hooper...” The anger became more prominent in his voice.

“Molly Hooper would go at people laughing about you with her scalpel.” A small smile tugged at Sherlock's lips.

“When do you want me to go?” Sherlock asked. Greg looked at him.

“I don't _want_ you to do anything. Whenever you are ready, OK?” Greg seriously said.

“OK.” Sherlock slowly nodded and made a few steps towards Greg.

“But there is more, right?” Greg asked.

“Yes, I need to talk to you about my brother. He is going to do something very stupid.” Sherlock said.

“Mycroft? Doing something stupid? I don't think so.” Greg grinned but when looking at Sherlock he became serious soon enough.

“Let's go outside and talk.” Sherlock just walked out of the library and Greg followed him. By now, he was worried.

They walked up to the wall shielding the back-yard and Sherlock sat down leaning against it. Greg did the same. And then Sherlock explained what had happened and what Mycroft was planning to do.

Greg was listening to everything Sherlock told him. And when Sherlock was done, he kept being quiet. He looked up into the sky and his eyes were closed. Carefully, Sherlock looked him over. He also felt compelled to speak.

“This is all my fault. I made him curious because of what I said. I didn't mean to cause problems. I don't want you to be angry and leave my brother. He loves you dearly. But he is just as stubborn as me.” Sherlock whispered.

“This is not your fault, Sherlock. I should have listened to him this morning. Instead, I became angry and left him without a clue. I should have stayed and explained.” Greg roughly whispered.

“It's not too late to do so.” Sherlock said looking at him.

“He can't go out there into some nasty club. He will be lost and hurt.” His kind features hardened.

“You need to show him what he wants.” Sherlock said.

“But what if he likes it too much? What if I like it too much? Make him go on his knees for me? Force him to do things he had never even heard of? Put clamps on his nipples just to make him explore? Blindfold him with his hands cuffed on his lower back?” Greg shook his head and dug his fingers into the earth.

“What would be wrongdoing all this if he likes it?” Sherlock quietly asked shifting on the spot.

“It would be wrong because I can't do this only to explore, to try out. It will be me domming. Full stop. And when I start a session I will do as I please. He will have to explore the whole thing and not the ones he picks out. That's why I can't do it. I don't want my submissive topping from the bottom. And I know myself, Sherlock. I will hurt him. Badly. And then all this will be over. I don't want that.”

“It might as well be all over because Mycroft will go elsewhere to explore. Could you stand it? Stand it knowing that he is touched intimately by another man or woman?”

“If it's done professionally? Yes. It wouldn't be a betrayal. Perhaps it will bring him back to his senses.” Suddenly Sherlock tensed. An idea had shot through his mind.

“Professionally?” He carefully looked at Greg who just nodded back.

“Well, we both know someone very much in the profession.” Sherlock said and he saw Greg's eyes widen.

“The _Woman_? You want to bring her in?” He asked and sounded a bit shrill.

“She has been involved all along. You have met her. She is a pro. She could even forget about who Mycroft is.”

“You are serious about this?” Greg asked and Sherlock nodded.

“Absolutely. You should talk to her. Privately. If you agree I will talk to my brother.” Sherlock said.

“Are you sure you can deal with it?” They locked eyes.

“I trust her.” Sherlock didn't say more but it was clear he meant it.

***

Greg left after lunch. Only he and Sherlock attended because Mycroft was locked inside his office pretending to be busy. He probably was busy but with things a bit not good.

Greg knew where to find Irene Adler. He had called before he went to see her and she instantly agreed to meet with him. He parked his car in front of her house. One of her maids opened the door and gestured him inside. This was her working-place and at once Greg saw everything. For once, there was the maid. She felt it, too. She wobbled on her legs when he glared at her.

Greg was back to business.

And he enjoyed it.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Sherlock knocked at Mycroft's office and was allowed inside. Now he stood in front of his brother's desk and they had a staring contest.

“Why do you want to read the protocols? There is nothing in there for you.” Mycroft said with his hand flat on the documents.

“You went to Baskerville to interrogate him for two bloody days. Please, I need to know. I want to know what he had to say.”

“Why?” Mycroft asked.

“I need it to end.” Sherlock whispered.

“You know, there is only one end.” Again, they locked eyes.

“And I will be witnessing the end. You will let me see how he is put down. And I want to read the documents. All of them.” Mycroft raised a brow. He wasn't begging anymore. He just stated his wishes. Mycroft smiled.

“Very good, Sherlock. Do not read them anywhere else than your room or in here. Do not show this to Gregory.” Sherlock picked up the pile of paper.

“Of course, brother-dear.” He carried everything up and into his room. He sat in his armchair and folded his long legs beneath him. Then he started to read.

He actually read for one hour and then stopped. His brother had been right. There was nothing for him in there. He sighed and returned the papers he had already read. The others he put beneath his blanket and locked his door. He enjoyed the possibility of locking his door. It was part of his new freedom.

He had showered and dressed in a new suit. He found his brother in the living-room reading the newspaper.

“Myc? I would like to see a hairdresser. Can I borrow your car and driver?” Mycroft lowered the newspaper and looked at him.

“You certainly are not going to see a hairdresser alone. Give me a second and I will call someone.” Sherlock nodded and sat down. He patiently waited. He had learnt to do that. The moment he realised he stood up and starting to pace. He wasn't actually listening to what his brother said.

“OK, let's go. I made an appointment at my studio. It is perfectly safe there and no questions will be asked.”

“Thank you.” The brothers left the house and Sherlock stood very still after having stepped over the threshold. Mycroft looked at him and patiently waited.

Sherlock hadn't been outside since he had been brought here. Except for the garden. He exhaled and made the step. It felt good, so very good. And Sherlock smiled when he walked with his brother and into the car. He carefully buckled up and looked out of the window. This felt extremely good.

***

In the meantime, Greg had met with Irene Adler. She had listened to everything he had said and she didn't even smirk. Greg looked utterly helpless but had the feeling that she understood him.

“I think, we both need a drink. Don't you agree?” She said very thoughtfully.

“Absolutely, Ms Adler.” He nodded politely and she smiled.

“Oh, please. We have passed that stage, haven't we, Detective Inspector? Call me Irene.” She poured the whiskey herself without calling the maid.

“Greg it is. Cheers!” He smiled and she knew what Mycroft saw. She lifted her tumbler in return.

“How is Sherlock?” She asked.

“Quite well actually.” He told her about his new room and the plans for his hair. She smiled.

“I hope he will be recovering fully. He is strong. He can make it.” She quietly said sipping her drink.

“I believe he will. Oh, have you heard about Mrs Hudson?” He told her too and she looked horrified.

“Dr Watson is sicker than I thought.” She shook her head.

“The poor woman. How is she?” She asked.

“She is already back at Baker Street. And Sherlock envies her. He wants to go back too. But yet he can't.”

“But he will.” She nodded and finally they returned to the main topic.

“So. About Mycroft then. Do you really think he would like to explore with me?” She asked.

“I think I need to explain very thoroughly. He does not want to lose me. If I suggest either you or one of your employees, he will accept. He trusts me. He knows Sherlock trusts you. Perhaps _he_ doesn't trust you but the other ones are enough. So, he will explore with you or one of yours.” Greg was convinced of what he said.

“I can imagine how all this came up but could you tell me anyway?” Greg told her and she nodded.

“Yes, I thought so. I could work with that and so can the ones I'd trust with him. Of course, I would like to watch. Would you?” She offered innocently.

“What do you think?” Both their grins were quite a bit lopsided.

***

“More.” Sherlock said glaring into the mirror. He wasn't yet pleased with the result. Mycroft didn't intervene.

“But you have the most wonderful hair, Mr Holmes!” The Italian hair-stylist touched it all the time, placed it this and that way and brushed it out evenly.

“So, it may be but I want it short. Use the machine for the neck. If you won't, I'll do it myself at home.” Sherlock threatened and his voice was almost back to his former self. Mycroft smirked and was secretly pleased.

The Italian sighed deeply and took the machine. Gently he placed his head forward and moved it over his neck. Sherlock thought how good it felt.

After another twenty minutes of arranging his hair, Sherlock was finally pleased with the result. His neck was free of hair and his curls covered half of his ears. The feminine look was completely gone and he looked good.

Sherlock looked at his brother raising a brow daring him to say anything stupid. But Mycroft only smiled approvingly.

“I guess we are done here?” He stood and pulled his card out of his wallet. He paid while Sherlock posed in front of a large mirror. The hair-stylist sadly looked at the cut off hair on the ground shaking his head.

“Yes, we are. Thank you.” Sherlock nodded at the hair-stylist and left with his brother. Inside the car, he took Mycroft's hand.

“Thank you too. I feel so much better. But tell me honestly, is it good?” He asked and Mycroft had another thorough look at his younger sibling.

“It's perfect. You look great. The look suits you.” Sherlock believed him and was very pleased.

“Could we have something to eat, please?” Sherlock asked rubbing over his non-existing stomach.

“We could go to my club if you like?” Mycroft suggested and Sherlock nodded. He hadn't been there for a very long time and he would like that.

“Yes, let's go there. They have fine food and wine.” Sherlock said and Mycroft smiled a wide and honest smile.

This was good. Sherlock was almost back for good. But he would only recover fully after John Watson had been taken off this world.

***

Greg had returned and was now having a late lunch. Alone. Both the brothers weren't in but he wasn't worried. He would talk to Mycroft the moment they were back. He needed to talk to him before anything really stupid would happen. He hoped he would be calm enough when Mycroft became stroppy. He knew how he could be and he also knew about himself. He must be in control. He mustn't scare him. He loved him. He would help him in any way needed even if it meant a complicated workaround.

“Greg? Greg!” Sherlock called when coming home. Mycroft followed slower. Sherlock dashed into the living-room and Greg stood looking at him.

“You look smashing!” Greg broadly smiled and hugged him. He also moved his fingers through his hair and Sherlock let him. This was Greg.

“It feels great.” Sherlock carefully touched his head.

“I am very proud of you, mate. You have done splendidly!” The praises went down Sherlock's throat like melted chocolate and he completely relaxed.

“Have you eaten already?” Greg asked both Sherlock and Mycroft.

“Yes, Mycroft took me into his awful club but the food is excellent. But I think I need to rest before dinner. I am very, very tired.” And he yawned. Greg grinned.

“Off you go then.” Sherlock left for his room and Mycroft stayed behind looking at him. He had no idea what to say.

“We need to talk, Myc.” Greg made the first step, both verbally and physically. Mycroft swallowed but nodded.

“Let's sit down then and have a drink.”

Mycroft sat upright on the sofa and stared at Greg. His long, elegant fingers were curled around the tumbler while he swirled the amber fluid.

And Greg talked. He told him everything he felt. What he felt about Mycroft's wishes and what he had done to help fulfilling them. He stated his opinion and why he thought he couldn't do it himself. He told him about his visit to Miss Adler's. Only when he was done, he downed his drink in one go.

Mycroft cleared his throat.

“I haven't expected this, I admit. I was scared you would go away. Leave me. But now I can see how much you care about me. I still don't understand why.” He shook his head but kept talking.

“Surely, I won't explore directly with Miss Adler but I would accept the help of one of her employees. A male employee. And afterwards I am going to come back home to you. I love you very much, Gregory.” The last statement was a lot for Mycroft and Greg was very happy. He moved up close and pulled him into his arms. He held him tight.

“I love you too. Very much. I can't ever lose you.” Mycroft relaxed in his hold.

“I spent hours thinking about it all. I wondered how you were back then, with your wife. I could not imagine you ruling over your wife. While thinking about everything and trying to imagine, I realised I never could do these things with you. It wouldn't be right. For me it would be exploring, a simple game for fun at the very best, a failed experiment at the worse, but for you it is something entirely different. This has been your life and I understand when you once switch it back on, it won't be simple to switch it off again.” He exhaled.

“I am sorry. I really don't know how to say this. And that fact scares me even more...” Mycroft finished his drink.

“You have said it perfectly right. We should have talked earlier. It's partly my fault you had to worry. I am sorry.” Greg's brown eyes were dark and tears shone in them.

“We are both sorry then." Mycroft reached out for him and touched his face.

"But I believe we are good again, aren't we?” Greg whispered with his lips against Mycroft's skin.

“Very good.” Both men stayed entangled on the sofa and had another drink later.

“Did she offer you food?” The question came out of the blue.

“What?“ Greg asked.

“Did she?” Mycroft asked again looking up at him.

“No, she didn't. We talked and had drinks.”

“I feel like rewarding my darling brother for his trip to my hair-stylist earlier. I know he loved takeaway in the past. I am convinced he hasn't had wicked food for ages.”

“I am sure he had a lot of wicked food...” Greg said without thinking and felt Mycroft tense. They looked at each other and Greg simply shook his head.

“Again, I am telling you sorry.” They slowly stood and Mycroft straightened his jacket.

“It's fine. I need to think before speaking. My brother holds a bad influence over me.” Now Greg laughed.

“Yes, well.” Greg shook his head. Mycroft picked up his laptop.

“What are you doing? You said you wanted take-away?” Greg asked.

“Yes, and I will be using this fine device to order it.” He held up the laptop.

“You don't have menus in your kitchen drawer like any sensible person?” Greg wondered but grinned.

“Pedestrian.” Mycroft said pulling up several sites.

“What do you suggest?” He looked at Greg.

“Chinese.” It came without hesitation.

“And I know the perfect place. Give.” Greg gestured for the laptop and Mycroft handed it over.

“As you wish. I'll get comfy as you always so eloquently tell me to do.” He turned away and Greg blew him a kiss.

“Please do so.” Greg called after him. He chose his favourite Chinese and placed their order. He knew what Sherlock liked and ordered a lot of everything. They could freeze the left-overs even though he knew he had to hide that from both cook and Mycroft. He smirked.

After he had placed his order, he walked upstairs to change as well. He heard Mycroft rummage in the bath and shook his head. He simply changed into cargo shorts and a t-shirt for the garden. Barefooted he walked over to Sherlock's room and heard him being awake, too. He knocked and waited.

“Come in, Greg.” Sherlock called out and Greg opened the door.

“I have just ordered Chinese and wondered if you would like some?” He looked almost innocent asking.

“You know very well; I would like some.” Then he looked a bit closer.

“You look more relaxed than before. What did you do?” Sherlock asked.

“Well, I have talked to Irene Adler and she agreed to help. I also talked to Mycroft. I mean, we talked to each other. Everything is back to good.” Sherlock smiled.

“Very good. I am glad to hear that. I want you both happy.” Sherlock quietly said.

“And we want you happy.” Greg replied.

“Let's go downstairs.” Sherlock wanted to leave but got stopped.

“Don't you want to get comfy?” Greg asked and Sherlock swallowed.

“I don't have such trousers.” He pointed at Greg's shorts.

“We could cut one of your denims.” He suggested. Sherlock's eyes lightened up. At once he turned around and picked a pair. It had a brand, of course it had, and Greg swallowed. Sherlock held it in front of his body to look where to cut while Greg looked for a pair of scissors.

“There you are. Cut them off.” Greg urged him and Sherlock sat down and did just that. He wasn't shy in front of Greg. He had been naked for so long around both his dom and others, he didn't mind. That's why he simply shed his trousers and climbed into the shorts.

Greg saw his bruises had faded quite a bit and his moves were confident.

“This is much better.” Sherlock said looking at his image in the mirror.

“Do you think I could talk your brother into it?” Greg asked and made Sherlock laugh. It was such a good sound.

***

An hour later Sherlock had somehow managed to eat all the dumplings and his brother glared at him.

“I actually didn't put everything on the table, Myc. There are still some for you. I'll heat them up right away if you like.” Greg offered.

“For me. Exactly. Please do so.” Mycroft said and Greg stood leaving the table. Sherlock looked at his brother.

“Greg told me you talked?” He worded it as a question and Mycroft nodded.

“Yes, we did. I will arrange an appointment with one of Miss Adler's male employees.” Sherlock nodded.

“Very good. But you won't go there alone.” Sherlock stated.

“I am not sure if you should watch this, brother-dear.” Mycroft thoughtfully said.

“Besides Greg, I am the expert here. And I will interfere if seeing something I don't like being done to you. I know you, Myc. You will exaggerate. You won't stop because you think you need to explore, need to know. We are very much the same.” Sherlock looked dead serious.

“I can live with you watching. But not Gregory...” Mycroft shook his head.

“Did you tell him?” Sherlock asked. Again, there was the shaking head.

“He won't let you go alone and you know it.” Sherlock stated.

“He would if he knew you would come along.” Mycroft said.

“Now you want me to come?” Sherlock raised a brow and Mycroft pressed his lips together.

“Yes. You. Not him.” Mycroft hissed.

“Not who?” Greg returned with the dumplings for Mycroft and placed them right in front of him.

“Tell him, Myc.” Sherlock pressed but Mycroft stuffed his mouth with dumplings. Greg looked at Sherlock.

“Tell me what exactly?” He asked sitting down.

“My darling brother doesn't want you to be his company to Miss Adler's exploration centre.” Sherlock was sarcastic. It made Greg both happy and a bit frightened.

“This is not up for discussion and you know it, Myc. We talked about it.” He was very serious.

“I don't want you to see me like that.” Mycroft angrily said.

“Excuse me? You wanted me to do it!” Greg got angry, too.

“Yes, and you denied me. Now we have found another solution and you are out.” Mycroft said eating spicy beef now because the dumplings were all gone.

“I can't believe my ears!” Greg threw up his hands.

“I am sure Miss Adler will provide video footage.” Mycroft smirked.

“I only want you to be safe!” Greg seriously stated.

“You could sell the footage afterwards. I am sure many people would like to see me brought down to my knees!”

“You are completely out of your mind!” Greg yelled and stood. They stared at each other and Mycroft lifted his chin just a little bit. But it was enough. He wouldn't take anything back.

***

Sherlock had shut off. He was cold and clammy. He felt the anger radiating off of Greg and he was scared. He had moved deeper into his chair and his eyes were closed. His hands slowly came up and he covered his face. His head went down on his thighs and he moved his hands over his ears. He made himself as small as possible. Tears ran over his face but he made no sound. He could not anger the dom present. He must become invisible. Quiet. Very quiet.

Mycroft saw what happened to Sherlock and he sharply inhaled. Then he accusingly pointed at his brother.

“See what you have done? This is your fault!” Now he yelled too and even stood. Greg straightened his body.

“My fault?” He shouted now.

“Your presence is scaring my little brother. He is afraid of you.” Greg looked at Sherlock and saw Mycroft was right.

Sherlock knew he was a dom. He felt his power over him. And now he was afraid his anger was directed or would be directed at him.

Greg closed his eyes and exhaled. Then he looked at Mycroft.

“Do whatever you please but don't expect me to help. I didn't mean to hurt your brother and you know it. I will go back to my flat. You know where to find me whenever you have come back to your senses.” Then he turned to face Sherlock. He actually went down on his knees and tried to look into his eyes but it wasn't possible. He didn't touch him though.

“I am very sorry, Sherlock. See you later.” Sherlock didn't react and Greg stood. His bones cracked and he walked away without looking back.

“Gregory!” Mycroft got to his legs and yelled his name. Sherlock twitched curled up in his chair. By now he had managed to pull up his legs and placed his head between his thin thighs.

The image brought Mycroft back and he swallowed. He stared at his younger brother until he heard the door bang closed. He twitched once and knew it would be senseless to run after him. Instead he fully turned to Sherlock and now knelt in front of his brother. He placed his large hands on his bony knees.

“Look at me, please?” He quietly said. Very slowly Sherlock's head came back up. His eyes swam in tears.

“This is all my fault... I am so sorry... Greg is gone and you yelled at each other... Please, go and talk to him. You can't ever leave him. Just please?” He sobbed and hiccupped.

“I won't leave you alone.” Mycroft said. And he actually didn't want to go after Gregory, did he?

“I will be perfectly fine. No one will harm me while hiding in my room. I could even hide inside your panic-room if you insist. But you have to go after him. Promise me!” Sherlock reached out for him.

“I promise. But not now. Not tonight. I need to come down. And so, does he.” Slowly Sherlock unfolded himself and blew his nose with a napkin.

“I want to go to bed, Myc. Did Dr Kim leave some sleeping-pills?” He asked.

“Yes, he did. And I agree with you. You need to rest. Come on. I'll get you some.”

“I want a cigarette too.” Sherlock suddenly said and it made Mycroft smile.

“Very good, brother-mine. Stay right here. I'll get us some.” He knew where Greg had stashed his supply and he got the pack. He also got two drinks and Sherlock thankfully smiled. They smoked and drank and Sherlock didn't need the pills anymore. He just shed his clothes and climbed beneath the blanket. It took him mere seconds to fall asleep. Mycroft took the baby-monitor and went into his bedroom. Sadly, he looked at all the things belonging to Gregory. He sighed.

He knew he had been acting wild. He had felt provoked. He had lost control. Normally he would have left the country for some diplomatic mission, or any mission, but now he couldn't because of Sherlock.

On the other hand, he could rely on Gregory to take care of his younger sibling. So, if he would arrange a mission for himself, surely Gregory would take care of Sherlock. He would either move back in or take him into his flat.

Mycroft relaxed and was very pleased with himself. He had promised to talk to Gregory but he hadn't said when.

***

Greg angrily stormed out of Mycroft's town-house. He actually walked all the way home. He fumed with anger but having reached his cold and lonely flat, he calmed down.

He sat on his sofa and poured a drink. He closed his eyes and breathed.

Mycroft had provoked him. Willingly. And he fell for it. He knew Mycroft was a stubborn brat. Not so different from his brother then. Normally though he was in control of himself. But probably the whole business with Sherlock had scratched on his attire. And Greg had let it happen. He blamed himself. He shouldn't have yelled.

Now the same thing happened like years ago with his wife. Would he lose his lover again?

He finished his drink and topped it up right away. What was he supposed to do now?


	18. Chapter Eighteen

A few days passed without any contact between Mycroft and Greg. Sherlock kept hiding in his room and only crept out for food. He actually picked some and carried it upstairs. He ate it cold. He didn't mind. He had worse.

Mycroft didn't push him. Instead, he left a message for him pinned to the fridge informing him of his mission.

Sherlock found it only the following morning when he brewed coffee. He read it twice. Mycroft had left. He had actually left him behind. Sherlock swallowed.

He slowly walked into Mycroft's office holding his cup of coffee. He even slower picked up the landline and called Greg. The answering machine picked up and Sherlock spoke after the beep.

“Greg, this is Sherlock speaking. Please, pick up if you are home. I need to talk to you. I am alone and I don't know what to do. Please! Do pick up!” He exhaled and waited but nothing happened. Perhaps Greg wasn't home but at work? He hung up and stared at the phone.

He drank more coffee when he suddenly heard the front door opening. He lifted his head and stood.

“Greg?” He called out and then the door burst open. Greg looked horrid. He couldn't have slept much. He had also lost weight in the few days after he had left.

“Sherlock, what happened? Where is your stubborn brother?” He asked coming closer. Sherlock stayed behind the desk.

“Mycroft left without a warning. He wrote a message and placed it on the fridge where I would surely find it only in the morning. I didn't know whom else to call. Please, I don't want to be alone. I promise to behave but please take me with you or stay here. You won't even know I am there. I'll do all the work but please, please don't leave me alone...” Sherlock started to cry again. His shoulders shook and he dropped hard on his knees. He buried his head in his hands and quietly sobbed.

Greg swallowed and didn't know how to react. But the thud of Sherlock falling down on his knees woke him up. He hurried around the desk and grabbed his thin arms.

“Don't! Get up!” And he strongly pulled him back up. He embraced him and hugged him. Sherlock's arms came up and around his broad shoulders. Greg patted his back and soothingly murmured stupid words of encouragement.

“Look at me, please.” He said after a few minutes and Sherlock did. Greg smiled and handed over a tissue.

“Thank you...” He blew his nose and threw the crumpled tissue into the bin beneath the desk.

“Better?” Greg asked and Sherlock nodded.

“Yes. I panicked. I am sorry.” He whispered. But Greg shook his head.

“No, don't be. Listen, I actually don't want to be here. I am gladly offering my flat. You know it already. There is not much space. But you could offer your place.” Greg said and Sherlock tilted his head.

“My place? You mean 221B? You want me to return to Baker Street?” His voice sounded a bit shrill but his eyes spoke volumes.

“Yes, of course. Everything has been changed back to the way it was before you fell for that evil son of a bitch that called himself a _dom_.” Greg snorted.

“My bedroom?” Sherlock dared to ask.

“All yours. The only things missing are in your room upstairs.” Sherlock swallowed.

“I want to have a look.” He slowly nodded.

“Mrs Hudson would be very happy to have you back. She will cook for you, bring you tea in the morning and cookies for tea.” Sherlock smiled.

“Can we go right away before I start thinking too much about it?” Sherlock asked.

“Sure thing. You have dressed already. So, let's go.” He gestured to the door.

They left together and Sherlock sat on the passenger-seat of Greg's police-cruiser. He looked at him and Greg grinned.

“I know, I know.” Then he pushed the controls. Blue lights came on in the front and on top. The sound was up, too. Then he kicked down and they raced through London.

Sherlock felt alive.

Finally, he was back.

***

Greg stood close to him when Sherlock pushed the key into the lock of 221B. He didn't urge him or push, he simply stood by his side. Sherlock took his time until he pushed the door open and made the step. He exhaled standing inside looking up the stairs. Seventeen stairs and he would be back home.

Suddenly the door of 221A opened and Mrs Hudson came to greet him.

“Sherlock, my darling boy! You came home!” She hurried towards him and hugged him. Sherlock hugged her back.

“Mrs Hudson, thank you.” They parted and now she looked at Lestrade.

“Inspector, thank you for calling me. I prepared a snack. Just go upstairs and I will be right with you.”

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson.” He smiled at her and followed Sherlock. He stood in front of the door and stared at it. He swallowed and very slowly reached out. He licked his lips and finally opened it. He made the last step over the threshold and stood in his old living room. He turned around and looked at all the things restored. It really looked like before and he was glad.

He walked through his flat and opened the doors to the bath and his bedroom. In there the tears started to fall. The bed looked like his old had but it wasn't his old bed. All the hooks were gone from the hardwood, the walls and the bed's frame. He walked over to the wardrobe and pulled it open. There were his clothes and socks. They hadn't managed his sock-index but that he could do himself. There weren't any toys or implements of pain. There was nothing of that sort.

Inside the bath, he found his favourite foam, shampoo, and shower gel. Even his conditioner was there. Everything was set up for one person and his fingers moved over all the bottles and flasks. His brother had thought of everything. Of course, he had.

He returned to Greg who had stayed behind. They looked at each other and Greg tilted his head gesturing upstairs.

“Won't you have a look there, too?” Greg asked. Sherlock swallowed. And he knew he had to exorcise the ghosts himself. No one else could do that for him, not even Greg.

With every step he took, he became faster. Finally, he ripped open the door of the second bedroom. In there it looked like it was never inhabited. The mattress was bare. Nothing personal was in this room. Nothing indicated that a person had been living in here and then changed the room into a wicked playroom.

Sherlock turned around and left again. He quietly closed the door and joined Greg downstairs. Mrs Hudson was just bringing their snack and they sat down in both armchairs and the sofa. She poured tea for them and Greg gladly took a scone.

“What do you think, Sherlock? Will you stay?” Mrs Hudson asked. Sherlock thought about it for a second.

“Yes. This is my home.” He replied looking at them.

“I will bring some things for me and help you over the first days or until Mycroft will be back.”

“And I need to take the things back from my room at Mycroft's. Then it really will be like before.” Sherlock eyed the scones and finally took one. He shoved it inside his mouth and smeared cream everywhere. Greg shook his head and Mrs Hudson handed him a napkin.

“Can you manage for a bit until I have packed a bag for myself?” Greg asked.

“Yes, Mrs Hudson will be staying with me.” Sherlock said and only then he turned to look directly at her.

“You will be staying up here with me until Lestrade is back, won't you?” She gently took his hand.

“Of course, young man.” She smiled and Sherlock smiled back. Greg was glad it had worked out. He wiped his mouth and stood.

“I'll be back soon.” Greg left and Sherlock looked at the closed door.

“Where is your big brother?” She asked.

“He ran away because he had a fight with Greg.” Sherlock quietly said and sighed taking another scone.

“Excuse me?” Mrs Hudson exclaimed. Sherlock shrugged and swallowed the pastry. He took another napkin and drank his tea.

“They have to deal with it by themselves. I can't help them. Even though it all happened because of me, because of what was being done to me in here.” Sherlock gestured around.

“I don't understand a word you are saying, young man. But I know that the Detective Inspector is a good man. He has settled with your brother and he would do anything for him. It's in his eyes. Your brother simply does not recognise it. He is stupid.” Sherlock quietly laughed.

“Perhaps you should talk to him.” Sherlock thoughtfully said.

“Perhaps I should.” She nodded. They quietly drank their tea until she spoke some more.

“You know, only because I am old now doesn't mean I don't know stuff. I saw what was going on up here and I desperately wanted to help. But you were so far gone, it wasn't possible. I made one step too far and that evil son of a bitch arranged to take me away.” She poured more tea while Sherlock sat absolutely tensely and still in his armchair.

“I know just by looking at DI Lestrade what he feels for your brother and that he holds back. I therefore deduce the fight was about sexual experiments, wasn't it?” She asked looking over the rim of her teacup.

“You have been my housekeeper for far too long, Mrs Hudson.” But Sherlock smiled at her.

“I have a past, you know?” She smiled too and made Sherlock quietly laugh.

“Mycroft surely will come here as soon as he can. He sure wants to know how I am coping.” Sherlock said.

“And he wants to see his favourite DI again.” Mrs Hudson now even grinned. They were still laughing when Greg returned with a weekender and a bag stuffed with food.

“What's going on here? It seems you are having a good time.” He dropped his bag and brought the food into the kitchen. Sherlock almost felt compelled to follow but Mrs Hudson stopped him by lifting her wrinkled hand.

“No, it's fine. Let him.” Sherlock cast a last look at Greg but relaxed again.

“I will leave you two alone now. But I will bring breakfast tomorrow morning.” They stood and Sherlock hugged her.

“Thank you for everything, Hudders.” Sherlock whispered. Greg called his good-bye from the kitchen.

“Thanks for all the food, Mrs Hudson. We appreciate it!”

“Don't mention it!” And gone she was. Sherlock looked at Greg.

“What food?” He asked.

“Come and have a look into your fridge. She cooked lots of things and stored them for us.” Sherlock slowly came up and joined Greg in front of the fridge. There were many boxes with pre-cooked food for both of them.

“She cooked my favourites...” Sherlock whispered and almost angrily wiped over his eyes. Greg's arm came around his shoulder.

“Don't. Be happy. She loves you.” Sherlock reached for a napkin and blew his nose.

“I am happy. Very much so. I should have thought of stealing some booze from my brother.” He said.

“I brought it.” Greg just said and they looked at each other.

“It's still a bit early, isn't it?” Sherlock checked the time but Greg shrugged.

“Who cares? We don't have to go anywhere, do we? We can have a nap and later have dinner.” Sherlock eyed the bottle.

“You know, I think you are right. We are both grown-up and can do what we want.” He nodded and opened a drawer. And right he was, there were glasses. He took two tumblers and placed them on the counter.

“Yes, we can!” Greg exclaimed and poured the whiskey.

***

In the meantime, Mycroft took care of several diplomatic missions. He had a lot of energy and finally ended up with his phone in his hand sitting behind a desk in the middle of Nowhereland. He pulled up several pictures of Gregory he had secretly taken.  
He sighed and called Irene Adler.

“This is Mycroft Holmes speaking. I would like to set up an appointment.”

“What a pleasant surprise, Mr Holmes. I already talked to your lovely DI.”

“Yes. However, I would like to see one of your male employees.”

“Of course, you would. And I agree. Would you like to have a look beforehand?” Mycroft considered the question.

“No, you will choose the right one. I know I can trust you. With this.” She quietly laughed.

“Very well. Let me see.” He heard her typing and humming.

“What about tomorrow at 7 pm? You know where I cater, don't you?”

“I sure do. How long do I have to plan for? I need to tell my security.” Mycroft said.

“It depends. You will need to talk before the real session starts. I believe, two hours will suffice.”

“Very good. You take my card, I assume?” Mycroft asked.

“I sure do.” She replied.

“Will someone else be present?” Mycroft carefully worded his question and she quietly laughed.

“I won't spy on you, neither directly or secretly, Mr Holmes.” She said. Mycroft cleared his throat.

“Forgive me, I meant if there was a supervisor in case of an emergency.” He tried again.

“I am very professional and there is security, of course. It happens that some clients faint or have a panic attack or even go at their doms or subs for that matter. You know of how I achieve my own safety but, in this case, I promise not to collect.” She was serious. Mycroft could hear it.

“I need to trust both you and your employee. I know Gregory does.” Mycroft exhaled.

“See you tomorrow at 7.”

“See you, Mr Holmes.” They ended their call and Mycroft closed his eyes. Soon he would know.

***

Greg needed to help Sherlock into bed because he was quite a bit drunk. Now he was snoring and sprawled all over the bed. Greg grinned and left the room again but he left the door open. He looked upstairs for the second bedroom but then went to settle on the sofa. Even for him the room upstairs had a bad mojo.

He sighed and cleaned up their glasses and wiped once through the kitchen. He sorted his few things into a cupboard he found empty.

He actually felt tired. He pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa and rolled onto the comfortable thing. He faced the room and closed his eyes. He began to think of Mycroft. Mycroft and him. He had talked to Irene Adler. He wondered if he would go and see her or someone of hers. He also wondered about the outcome. Would he find what he was looking for? And what if he liked it a bit too much and asked him to do these things to him? He wouldn't do it, he knew that.  
Would they finally break up over it? He hoped not. He knew he loved Mycroft, very much so. And Mycroft loved him, trusted him. He always held back when he actually wanted to simply smack the tall, arrogant man around. He should have done that. It would have helped.

Greg fell asleep and dreamt of Mycroft and how fanciful he killed John Watson.

***

Sherlock woke very sudden when his dream came to an abrupt halt. He had dreamt he was back in Baker Street and everything was back to normal. But then it wasn't. Under his bed, there lurked a monster. He was convinced of it.

And now he stared at the ceiling, his eyes wide open, and breathed open-mouthed. He listened in to the room but it was eerily quiet. He wanted to call out for help but he knew there was no one to come for him. He licked over his parched lips.

His heart was beating loud and fast. He was thirsty and he needed the loo. Desperately. But he couldn't get out of bed, couldn't get up.

He carefully moved his legs and crossed them beneath the blanket. He knew he wasn't allowed but he had no choice. He wasn't supposed to twitch. He was to be still and quiet, no matter what. He started to pant pressing his long legs together.

His stomach was empty, an empty, dark hole. His throat was dry. But he had to wait until he got fed.

He listened into the flat and heard nothing. He closed his eyes and settled.

***

Greg woke with a start when the bullet hit. He stared at the living-room of 221B and exhaled. He also shook his head and sat up. He ruffled his hair and rubbed over his face.

“God, how stupid am I?” He stood and folded the blanket back over the sofa. He yawned and decided to have a look into the bedroom, see if Sherlock was still asleep.

Very quietly he walked over and carefully opened the door to peer inside.

The moment he pushed open the door Sherlock shot up in bed and screamed. Greg pulled a face but saw how scared he was, how frightened.

Then he smelled it. Sherlock had wet himself and peed into the bed.

“Sherlock, it's me, Greg. Please, come down again. You are back home. You are safe.” His voice was low and soft and he carefully reached out for him.

Sherlock's eyes became clear and he grabbed his hand and pulled himself up.

“Greg... I suddenly woke and I could not move. I am not allowed to shift too much, you know? And it was under my bed. If I moved it would come out and get me.” Greg stared at him.

“There is nothing and no one under your bed. I made sure of it. You are safe here. You are here with me. Mrs Hudson is downstairs. You can do what you want. If you need the bathroom, you will get up and go right there.”

“It's too late now.” Sherlock whispered and pulled a face. Tears fell from his eyes.

“I am sorry...” He sobbed and started to cry openly. Greg pulled him into his strong arms and held him.

“Hush, I will take care of it. I will prepare a bath for you. You need to relax. Come on and get up now.” He gently pulled and finally made him stand.

Sherlock simply padded along with Greg and stood by the tub when Greg washed it out and filled it. He added some of the foam he found and hung a towel over the heating.

“There you are.” He gestured towards the tub and Sherlock wanted to climb inside with his clothes on.

“No, no, no, Sherlock. Get undressed first, please?” Sherlock just started to shed his clothes never minding Greg. He was so used to it still, followed the orders given to him.

Greg swallowed when looking at him. The bruises had all faded and were gone but the scars would stay forever. Now he climbed into the tub and lowered himself into the water. He sighed and closed his eyes.

“I'll be in your bedroom cleaning up. You are not alone. If you need help, please call out for me.”

“Yes, Greg.”

“Fuck!” Greg thought.

“He is falling back into old patterns. Perhaps the idea of moving back into Baker Street wasn't such a good one after all. It must have been too early.” He left the door open, picked up his clothes, and took care of the bedding. He stuffed everything into a plastic bag and threw it outside. He needed a washing machine.

Back inside he scrubbed the mattress with bleach and lemon cleaning stuff. He put the mattress up leaning it against the bed's frame and opened the window to let it dry.

Perhaps he should bring the mattress from upstairs and sleep in here? He gnawed on his lips.

Suddenly he heard the water splash and the padding of naked feet over the tiles. He looked over his shoulder and there was Sherlock clad in a towel standing in the doorway.

“There you are. Are you feeling better?” Greg asked and forced a smile on his face.

“Yes. Again, I am sorry. I panicked and had no idea what was the right thing to do.” He sadly shook his head.

“That's why I am here. I will help you.” Greg said reassuringly.

“I know. And I am glad you are here.” A shy smile was on his face and it made Greg happy.

“Very well. Why don't you get dressed and join me in the kitchen? We can prepare dinner together if you like?”

“I will be right with you.” Sherlock turned and simply shed the towel. Greg shook his head but didn't correct him. If he wanted to shed the towel where he stood, he was free to do so.

He half-listened to the noises Sherlock produced. The opening and closing of the drawer, the rustling of clothes and finally the steps back into the bath. Was he hanging up the towel, Greg wondered?

Finally, he appeared dressed in pyjamas and a t-shirt. He looked much better. And it made Greg feel much better, too.

“There you are. Let's choose some of Mrs Hudson's pre-cooked meals, shall we?” Sherlock nodded and stepped up to have a look into the fridge.

“What about this?” He pulled out a box with goulash and potatoes. Greg licked his lips.

“Very good idea. I will heat this up right away.” Greg took the box and placed it on the counter. Sherlock looked at him and opened his mouth. Greg tilted his head and looked at him.

“What? Something else?” He asked hesitantly.

“No, it's just that I would like to heat it up.” He held Greg's gaze and he nodded.

“Sure, whatever you like. I'll set up the table for us.” Sherlock chose a pot and heated up the meal. He tried it and put some spices into it. He knew how Greg liked his food. And he liked it like that too. Now he could do as he liked and it felt great.

“Do we have something nice to drink?” Greg asked and Sherlock turned to look at him.

“My brother has stocked up the wine and bar. Perhaps a wine?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, very good. Where were the glasses again?” Greg asked and Sherlock pointed at the cupboard. Greg chose two but got actually stopped.

“No, these are for white wine. You need to take these.” Sherlock wouldn't look into his eyes when he corrected him. But he did correct him. Greg's choice had been wrong on purpose because he wanted to know about Sherlock's reaction.

“Oh, I never know which glasses or which spoon are correct. It was never important in my life since we only had one set of each back home.” He shrugged and Sherlock just looked at him. Inside his brain, his words tumbled about. The moment, they had sat down, he blurted out his question.

“Have you been poor when you were a child?” He spoke out of curiosity and concern and Greg was quite a bit moved.

“Poor? I never felt poor.” Greg shook his head.

“Your education though was, wasn't it?” Sherlock tried again.

“Yes, you could say that. The school wasn't good. I became a police-man very early. No one ever taught me about protocols at the table or a dressing-code for different occasions. The first one who tried was my wife.” Sherlock thought about his reply and now wanted to ask more but he didn't dare.

“Ask right away, Sherlock. You are my friend and I don't mind.” Greg had cleaned his plate and now wiped his mouth.

“I would like to know when you started being a dom. I mean, there must have been a certain moment when you realised what you were and what you liked.” Sherlock had problems finding the right words.

“As a teenager, I fell in love with my teacher. I used to spy on her, wanted to find out if she had a boyfriend. I knew she wasn't married. So, once I followed her home and looked into her window. I sneaked into her back-yard to do so because no one was supposed to see me. But back then I had no idea how to do this correctly. That's why she found me lurking there.”

“She must have been terribly angry.” Sherlock wondered.

“That's what I believed too and I almost lost control.” Greg quietly laughed sipping his wine.

“But she didn't smack your face?” Sherlock asked becoming more and more involved with the story.

“No, she didn't. Instead, she glared at me and shoved me inside. She closed the door and made me sit in an armchair by the fire in the living room. She gave me tea and a cookie. Then she wanted me to talk. I was beetle red and felt hot. It was so embarrassing. But she urged me on and I finally confided in her. When I was done, I stood and wanted to leave. But she stood too and pushed me back into the chair.”

Sherlock watched him with a slightly open mouth. His long fingers were curled around the stem of the wine glass.

“I wasn't of age, of course, I wasn't. But I was a young boy and definitely aroused. She asked me if I really felt ready to find out and I simply nodded. She led the way into her bedroom then, opened the door and gestured me inside. It was the first time I saw a play-room.” He smiled looking at Sherlock.

“It is a good memory?” Sherlock asked and Greg nodded.

“Yes, absolutely. She was a domme and explained everything to me. Soon we found out that I could be a dom too. But she denied me the experience. Instead, she wanted me to read about it and turn older. Only then she would show me stuff.” Now Greg sighed.

“You must have been disappointed, I assume?” Sherlock said but Greg shook his head.

“No, she gave me many books to read but I had to read them at her place. I was allowed to come over and sit in her living-room. We pretended she gave me lessons to get better at school and my parents actually paid for it. It was ridiculous, really.” He laughed a bit louder now.

“But you were out of school when you became old enough. How did you keep in contact?” Sherlock asked.

“She gave me an address of a place. It was a club where doms and subs could meet privately. Not a brothel, no. Just a safe place. There she showed me everything I needed to know. Unfortunately, she didn't help with my strictness and my aggressions sometimes.”

“Have you met your wife there?” Sherlock kept asking.

“Yes, I have. I fell in love with her. She was beautiful and a kind submissive. She went under easily. And...” Greg looked up and met Sherlock's eyes.

“And I really shouldn't talk to you about it. About how I failed her.” He sadly shook his head.

“You should, you know? Perhaps it will help both you and me.” Sherlock quietly said.

“You have to promise me though, you'll stop me if it becomes too much.” Greg said.

“I promise.” Sherlock looked at Greg and wondered about the mistakes he had made.

“I said she went under so easily. I enjoyed domming her. At first, I was very careful and gentle with her. But over the years, after several miscarriages, I became harder and stricter as if giving her the fault. But I wasn't. I dearly loved her. I simply changed as a dom. She felt different though. She couldn't bear it anymore.” Greg exhaled and closed his eyes. His head hung low when he made a break.

“What did you do? What changed?” Sherlock dared to ask. His voice was low and soft.

“I started to dish out punishments. They were real punishments. Not like a spanking over the lap. I hit her with a whip. I put her in a cage. I had non-consensual sex with her.” Suddenly he shook his head.

“God, I am sugar-coating this again. What I did was, I raped her. Not once, but many times. The final thing was, I asked her to get a tattoo. I wanted my tattoo on her, show everyone who she belonged to.” Now a single tear ran over his face and he angrily wiped it away.

Sherlock was quite a bit shocked. He had never felt anything bad with Greg around. He had felt how strong he was and he had finally realised he was a dom. He knew he could have easily brought him down on his knees if he so desired. He would have had no choice and he would have done it gladly for him.

Greg had realised what had gone wrong and he regretted his former actions. Sherlock knew he would never harm him. Or Mycroft, in this case. But Greg didn't know that himself, he needed someone to tell him. So, when Mycroft had asked for the things he wanted to experience and know more about, Greg had freaked out because he was scared of losing Mycroft whom he loved very much.

“How did you break up? What happened exactly?” Sherlock kept going. He saw Greg tense. Sherlock topped up their wine and simply waited. Greg breathed and opened his eyes again.

“One day I came home from work and she stood in the hall with several suitcases and boxes. The collar from around her neck was on a wardrobe. She looked at me and just shook her head. I knew what it meant. Suddenly I understood but it was too late. And I let her go.” Another tear fell and now Sherlock reached out for his hand on the table. His large hand covered Greg's and it was warm and good.

“Do you know what became of her? Where she went?” Sherlock asked pressing his hand just a little bit.

“She is with another dom in France. She finally had children. Children she always wanted. Perhaps we weren't compatible. Perhaps we weren't meant for each other.” Now there were more tears falling.

Sherlock wondered if Greg had never told anyone but him. Only now. Too late. He could deal with this only because of his own experiences. Mycroft wouldn't have understood. It was for the better to have kept it all a secret.

Sherlock slowly stood letting go of Greg's hand and walked around the table. He lowered himself down on his knees and hugged him tightly. He felt him tense. But after a few seconds he fully turned into his arms and hugged him back. Their legs were touching, so were their chests and heads.

Greg cried his heart out for many long minutes. Sherlock felt his strength and he knew how much discipline Greg needed every single day to not let it out. Both in private and on the job.

“Thank you...” Greg said after quite a time and leant back. His hands kept holding Sherlock though. His left was on his shoulder and the fingers of his right stroked over Sherlock's cheekbone. Sherlock smiled a bit shyly.

“And now get up. Please, get up before you give me ugly thoughts.” The grins on both their faces were really lopsided but Sherlock stood and made a step back. He took the box with Kleenex and handed it over.

“Don't use them up because I am still in desperate need of them.” Sherlock said and sat back down.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Mycroft had showered and shaved. He had brushed his teeth and avoided looking into the mirror when entering his walk-in wardrobe. He also avoided noticing Greg's clothes that still hung in there.

He wondered what he should dress into for his appointment at Miss Adler's. It somehow felt not right to wear a three-piece suit. He knew they would made him undress or undress him themselves. He swallowed.

Finally, he ended up with a pair of designer jeans and a cashmere pullover with a t-shirt underneath. He slipped into soft leather brogues and arranged his hair. He took a leather jacket and ignored his umbrella by the door. He wondered where to put keys, wallet, and other items when his eyes fell on Greg's shoulder-bag. He had left it behind when storming out.

He slowly picked it up and opened it. Inside, there were still some folders, a notebook, and a pen. Mycroft felt around for more and found something stuck behind a zip. He pulled it open and found a picture. It was a picture of him and Greg taken on the beach in Torquay. Greg had insisted on a so-called selfie and both men laughed into the camera. The picture had been touched a lot and the corners were thin and folded over. Mycroft smiled and his finger moved over it. Then he sighed and shook his head. He put the picture back and stored his things into the bag. It was an alien feeling carrying the bag around but he felt like Greg was close.

He checked the time and informed security about him leaving. They were trustworthy, very much so. Even though, he wanted to drive himself. They would follow in another car and wait outside. There had been a discussion about him going alone into her place but he made himself abundantly clear.

Outside, his driver handed him the car-keys and Mycroft sat behind the wheel. He adjusted everything to his height and checked into the back-mirror for his team. They were right behind him. He started the car by pushing the button and the soft noises of his Jaguar barely reached his ear. He smiled and his fingers moved over the leather.

Then he exhaled, put the car into gear and let go of the power. He grinned because he knew there wouldn't be any speeding-tickets or some such nonsense; not for them there would.

He arrived quickly and parked the car directly in front of her door. He was lucky because right then someone pulled out. Mycroft cast a glance and for a second, he wondered if he had seen right. The foreign minister? Interesting. He grinned and opened the door. A last look went over to his security. They were parked close by and they exchanged a last glance before Mycroft took the bag and climbed up the few steps to the door. He rang the bell and turned towards the camera. There weren't any questions and the buzzer made an inviting noise. The door clicked open and he pushed inside.

Irene Adler was already waiting and greeted him herself.

“Mr Holmes, it is good to see you.” She held out her hand in greeting and the smile seemed to be honest.

“Miss Adler, thank you for helping me.” His smile was a bit tight but he was in control. And he had to stay so.

“Sit with me for a moment, please.” She ushered him into a drawing-room and he sat down.

“You look different.” She tilted her head. Mycroft had no idea what to say to that. He just looked at her.

“You also seem quite relaxed and confident.” Now he slowly nodded.

“I just want to let you know that Sergej is the best dom I have. He is from Russia but his English is fluent. He will always listen to you. He will give you what you desire.” Mycroft pulled out his mobile.

“His full name, please? We avoid my team dashing inside that way.” She smiled and told him while he typed. A minute later there was an answer. Sergej was fine and he was free to do what he wanted. He exhaled.

“I am sure you understand, Miss Adler.” Mycroft looked at her and she nodded.

“I sure do. And now, before I let you go, I want to know about Sherlock. How is he coping? Is he healing?” She leant forward and Mycroft fully relaxed.

“He moved back to Baker Street. DI Lestrade will be staying with him for a few days. Sherlock is coping very well. Bodily, he is healing perfectly fine. Mentally, I am not sure. That's why I pushed him into moving back.”

“And you could rely on the handsome Detective Inspector to not let you and your brother down, am I right?” She smiled. Mycroft's cheekbones were covered in a shade of red and he swallowed.

“I could, yes.” He nodded.

“And he is also the reason why you are here.” Mycroft nodded again.

“He is strong. I felt his presence when he was seeing me. You asked him first to show you and he denied you.” Mycroft again nodded and felt rather stupid.

“I am sure he has a past. He was scared of hurting you. He didn't deny you because he doesn't want you. He denied you because he loves you dearly.” Now she stood and Mycroft simply stared up at her.

“Come on. I'll introduce you to Sergej. He is waiting for you in my best rooms.” Suddenly Mycroft felt the urgent need to run. Flee. Push her out of the way and run. But of course, he didn't. He was Mycroft Holmes and he wanted to explore.

Upstairs she opened a door and let him enter first. Inside there stood a man. He was a tall man and extremely good looking. He had ocean-blue eyes and blond hair cut short.

Irene Adler cast a last look at Mycroft but he was focused on Sergej. She nodded to him and left them alone.

Mycroft heard the door close and he tried to relax in the presence of Sergej. If Sergej even was his right name.

“My name actually is Sergej. Your name is Mycroft. We need to know nothing more.” His accent was soft but distinctly Russian.

“Please, come over here and tell me what you need from me.” He pointed to a sofa and Mycroft slowly walked up and sat. He placed his bag on the hardwood. He already had seen many things he surely didn't need.

“Due to several things that happened to a person very close to me, I started to wonder how certain things might feel. Things being put on my nipples, ropes around my ankles and wrists or a forced orgasm. Blindness. Masks. Gags.” He helplessly shrugged.

“You don't mention more pain dished out by a riding-crop or an electric prod. Does it mean you don't want to experience to the fullest?” Only then Mycroft locked eyes with him and was for once brutally honest.

“I am not sure.” Sergej tilted his head and hummed.

“Well, you have had sex with a man?” He asked and Mycroft slowly nodded.

“Don't worry, I am not going to force myself on you. I only do that if you want me to. But I might use toys on you and inside of you. If you need me to stop for any reason at all, you will tell me _Red_. If you need a break, you will tell me _Yellow_. And if I am asking if you want to proceed and you want to, you will tell me _Green_. During our session, you will address me as _Sir_. You only need to do so when I am asking you a question and not when acknowledging my orders. By the way, the safewords are as much for me as they are for you. Now, are you ready, Mycroft?” He seriously looked into his eyes.

Mycroft felt quite a bit paralysed but he nodded.

“I am ready.” He didn't address him as Sir because he hadn't started anything just yet. His chin moved a bit forward and suddenly there was an honest grin on Sergej's face.

He slowly stood and his whole stance changed. He looked like a wild animal now, a dangerous animal.

“I declare this session open. Get up and undress. Place your clothes neatly on the small table over there. Come back to me and fold your hands on your nape.” Mycroft stood and swallowed. He slowly walked over to the table and started to undress. He folded his pullover followed by his t-shirt. He toed off his shoes and socks and they went under the table with his socks inside his shoes. He opened his belt and climbed out of his jeans.

He felt horrible. His body wasn't attractive and he knew it. His fingers were behind the hem of his silk boxers and he pulled them down too. He closed his eyes for just a second and exhaled. Only then he padded back to where Sergej stood and waited. His hands came up and folded on his nape. He looked at a point on the wall. Everywhere but Sergej.

“He does not feel good naked. No confidence at all. But he is rather good looking. A ginger. Tall and slim. Proud. Always in control. Many scars. Old scars. This won't be easy.” He started to walk around Mycroft who stood absolutely still.

“Very good. Thank you.” He kept walking and stood close behind. He was almost as tall as Mycroft and his breath ghosted over his shoulders. His freckled shoulders. Sergej had never seen someone with so many freckles. He smiled and carefully moved his hands over his skin. He tensed but relaxed again rather soon. He probably didn't like himself but his boy-friend did.

Sergej picked up several lengths of rope from a cupboard and returned to his side.

“Stretch your arms to the side, please.” His voice was soft and quiet. He watched when the man in front of him spread his arms wide. Sergej shook out the first length of rope and he kept thinking.

“He has well-developed muscles, but is still very slim. He does a lot of sports, running probably. He has perfect body control. This will be fun.” He slung several lengths around Mycroft's body. Above and beneath his chest, over his shoulders and around his waist and upper thighs.

By now, Mycroft was breathing open-mouthed. In his younger years when he was doing fieldwork, he had been severely trained in interrogation technics. He had been beaten, pushed around, kidnapped, and kept in the dark for ages. He knew how to fight this. He knew how to cope with this. This was nothing. This was fun.

“Give me a colour, Mycroft.” Sergej moved his palm over his back.

“Green, Sir.” His voice was rough but sounded fine. And Sergej continued. He tied his arms to the harness and his long fingers touched his upper arms. Sergej grabbed the rope leading from his bound arms up to and over his neck and shoulders and shook him a bit. Mycroft lost his stance and moved on the spot.

“You have been very good so far. Until now, it was very easy. But now I will up the ante a bit.” He reached into his pockets and retrieved nipple-clamps. He stood in front of Mycroft and showed him. He saw him swallow and look at the heavy clamps connected by a chain. And this time he didn't ask for a colour.

He blew over his nipples and Mycroft closed his eyes. Then he touched them, pulled them a bit, and teased them for a while. Mycroft felt his arousal grow. He felt his cock grow and his face and chest were getting rather hot and reddish. This was extremely humiliating and embarrassing. His lips stood open. But when the first clamp closed around his flesh, he couldn't suppress a noise. When the second clamp was attached, his cock was almost fully erect.

“You have a beautiful cock, Mycroft.” Sergej said and Mycroft blushed even more. He lifted up the chain and dropped it. The pull seemed to reach his cock and balls. His spine. His toes. He felt the pull everywhere.  
And he could not hold back the groan.

“Yes, let it all out. It's good. You are very good.” Sergej said and moved his palm over his not quite flat stomach. And only now Mycroft stumbled backwards.

“No!” He hissed the one word and it surprised Sergej.

“Excuse me? Was this a _Red_?” He stared at him. Mycroft panted and glared at him.

“Yes, it was. Sir.” He spat out the honorific and Sergej knew the fun would begin right now.

“I see. But I haven't heard it.” And he placed his palm back on his stomach. Mycroft walked backwards but Sergej followed with his palm on his body until Mycroft bumped against the wall. There was nowhere to go and Sergej pressed down. Mycroft sucked in his breath and they were only inches apart. His head was leaning against the wall behind him, his stomach was sucked in and he was standing on his toes.

“Well?” Sergej asked and Mycroft locked eyes with him. He opened his lips and closed them again. Then he licked them. And finally, he spoke.

“Red. Sir.” His voice almost broke but not quite yet. Sergej nodded and at once took away his hand. Mycroft visibly relaxed.

“For whatever reason, Mycroft. I want you to remember.” He said quietly and very seriously.

“Yes, Sir.” Now they were on their way.

***

A few minutes later, Mycroft was hooked up to the ceiling and his long legs were spread by a bar around his ankles. His cock was on his way up again. It had gone soft when he had safeworded. It started to leak when Sergej dangled a ball-gag in front of his eyes.

“Open up.” Mycroft opened his mouth and felt the ball-gag pressed behind his teeth. His mouth was forced wide open. The gag was buckled tight and his cock came all the way up leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.

“If you need me to stop, you will cross your fingers. Show me.” Mycroft did it and got patted on his thigh. He shook and grunted. Sergej grinned and started to slap him a bit until he groaned. Then he started to spin him around until Mycroft was a shaking, drooling mess hanging from the suspension rack. His eyes were closed and he panted.

Sergej took away the spreader-bar but instead tied his long legs up. His left was tied to his thigh and the right was pulled up into the rope-system. His head hung low and he was relaxing further.

“I think you are deserving a reward. Think of how to stop me if needed.” There wasn't any reaction until Sergej lifted him up a bit more. He used lube over his hole and also slicked up a plug. He pulled his cheeks apart and moved the plug between them.

Mycroft quietly moaned but didn't cross his fingers. He felt the intrusion and it burnt a bit. Soon it was fully inside and got switched on. Sergej made a step back when Mycroft started to twitch and jerk inside the ropes. He also screamed his lungs out.

He let him for several minutes until he blindfolded him. At once he calmed down extensively and hung motionless.

“Wiggle your fingers if you are feeling well.” Sergej had his hand on his head. He watched the long fingers wiggle slowly and he smiled.

“Are you ready to come?” That would be the final loss of control. Mycroft shook his head and sobbed once.

“I thought so.” Sergej whispered and turned away after giving him a push that made him turn several times. He chose a wand and came back when Mycroft slowly stopped swinging. By now, he quietly moaned. He moved the wand over the insides of his thighs and finally over his cock. Mycroft's head came back up but the screams were weak already. He also sounded a bit throaty. It was time to end this.

Sergej chose a higher setting for the plug and the wand and forced Mycroft to orgasm. He actually shot out a lot and was still half-hard after his first orgasm.

Now Sergej worried his lips. He thought about it for a moment and then knew what he would do. He lowered him down and untied his legs. They were trembling and he slumped on his heels.

Sergej untied him until only his wrists were tied. He left both the blindfold and the gag. He gently helped him up and made him sit on the sofa. He pulled him against his body and started to touch him. Soon enough he removed the plug and dropped it. He also removed the ball-gag. He started to tease him with the chain and he weakly moaned. He suddenly ripped off one clamp and Mycroft yelled roughly. His chest was heaving but he didn't move a lot. He ripped off the second clamp and used his wet fingertips to tease them. Mycroft arched up, tensed, and came for the second time.

Sergej lifted him off his body and placed him on the sofa. He wasn't moving but his pulse was fine. His eyes were open but unfocused. He had gone under.

He gently removed the rope around his wrists. The traces of the ropes would stay until tomorrow but he didn't have any rope-burns.

Soft and tired noises came out of Mycroft and his eyes drooped. Sergej smiled when he placed a soft blanket over his body. He would sleep for some minutes and then wake up again. And he needed him to be here.

While Mycroft slept on the sofa and even lightly snored, Sergej collected everything he had used on him and put it into the box to get disinfected. He was still aroused and would have a nice and effective wank later without a customer present.

This had been surprisingly nice. At first, he had thought it would be boring and tiresome but this man had been perfect. He wondered what his problem was. Every dom should be happy to have this man beneath him.

He turned towards him when the noises changed.

***

Mycroft had no idea what was going on inside or outside of his body. He only knew he felt wonderful. Relaxed. He wasn't stressed. He actually didn't think. His body was light and he was warm. But one thing was missing. What was it? He couldn't remember.

He felt leather beneath him and a blanket covered his body when he slowly woke. He blinked his eyes and carefully looked around. Then there was Sergej back by his side. He knelt in front of the sofa and gently moved his fingers through his hair.

“How are you doing?” Mycroft cleared his throat. It felt rough and his voice was raspy.

“Very good.” He actually enjoyed the fingers in his hair. He had given up control and it had been great. He now knew how his brother could have fallen for Dr Watson.

Sergej stood and brought him a glass of water while he was slowly getting up and pulling the blanket with him.

“Please, drink this.” His hand was still a bit shaky but he downed the whole amount. They looked at each other.

“I hope you found what you were looking for.” Sergej said and stood. He walked over to where Mycroft had placed his clothes and picked them up. He placed them by Mycroft's side on the sofa.

“Take your time. I will let Miss Adler know we are done. She will come and see you out.” They looked at each other but Mycroft had no idea what to say to him. Sergej finally turned away and wanted to leave.

Mycroft grabbed the blanket and stood. He cleared his throat.

“Sergej?” He called out still rather raspy. The man stopped and looked over his shoulder. Then he fully turned and made a few steps back towards Mycroft.

“Yes?” He tilted his head while Mycroft clung to the hem of the blanket.

“I did find what I was looking for. You gave me everything I needed. I am very grateful and you were excellent.” His face became red again but Sergej smiled.

“I am glad to hear that. Now you have to convince the one you love. You need to make him see you are under control. No one else but you. And you are, believe me. You were perfect.” Mycroft smiled and looked at him.

“I might call you for further advice.” Sergej smirked and reached into the pockets of his soft leather trouser. He handed over a card. Mycroft took it. It only had his name printed on it as well as a mobile number.

“Please do so.” They exchanged a last glance and Sergej closed the door. Mycroft exhaled and straightened up. He was a bit sore but not too bad. He turned around and dropped the blanket on the sofa. He got dressed again but left the pullover. He was still too warm. He folded it and put it into the bag. He looked around for a mirror and tried to manage his hair but it was useless. He looked at himself and tried to see what Greg might see and what Sergej had just seen. He sighed.

Suddenly it knocked and he turned around.

“Yes?” The door was opened and Irene Adler came inside. She quickly walked over to him and closely looked. He let her scrutiny wash over him.

“Sergej just told me. Are you really doing well, Mr Holmes?” She gently took his wrist to feel for his pulse. And he let her.

“I am. Really.” She let go of him and looked up.

“Would you like a drink before I empty your account?” Now she smirked at him and he tilted his head.

“One drink should be fine.” He picked up his bag, Greg's bag, and followed her back into the drawing-room. Again, there was no one else present. Mycroft pulled out his card and handed it over.

“It was a joke, Mr Holmes. I won't charge you for Sergej's service.” She shook her head.

“But he was great. Wonderful. He does deserve it.” He still held up his card.

“I will pay him myself. I consider this a part of first-aid if you like. This is only happening because of that evil Dr Watson. I haven't seen it myself; you know? But Sherlock is free again. And you wanted to explore. You are curious. Just as curious as your brother. And I can't have anything happen to any Holmes again.” He had listened to her and admittedly, he was very surprised by her speech.

“Tip him nicely, will you?” Now it was Mycroft's turn to smirk. She handed him his drink and they sat in silence for a moment.

“What will you do now?” She asked sipping her whiskey.

“Regarding what?” She tilted her head.

“Please!” She said no more and he sighed looking into the tumbler.

“I will talk to Sherlock first. Tell him what I achieved and how. Afterwards, I need to talk to Gregory.” His voice became quieter and quieter.

“I met him. I talked to him. And it is absolutely clear that he is deeply in love with you. He is only scared to death because he thinks he might hurt you when fulfilling your desires. You have to convince him that...”

“I have to convince him that I am in control. I know, your man Sergej already told me. And it was the perfect advice.” Now she looked surprised.

“He did, didn't he? His studies paid out then...” She shook her head all smile.

“Studies?” Mycroft curiously asked and she nodded.

“Yes, Sergej has a past, too. I found him in the streets of Russia when I was in hiding. He had no home and sold his body to survive. I at once saw his potential and smuggled him out when I was leaving. I made him go to university and he managed a degree of psychology and sociology.”

“You faked his documents for university, didn't you?” Mycroft asked and she just nodded.

“Yes, since he had no papers at all, neither passport or school documents, I just had to.” She shrugged.

“You did well. He is a good man.” Mycroft thoughtfully nodded. Then he placed the tumbler back on the small table and stood. He slung the bag over his shoulder.

“I'll better be going, Miss Adler. Thanks again.” He held out his hand.

“See you, Mr Holmes.” She shook his hand all smile and let him out.

***

Mycroft looked for his team and gave them the sign that everything was OK. Only then he climbed into his Jaguar and started the engine. He quickly rode home followed by security. He handed the car-keys over to his driver and disappeared into the house. He walked right upstairs and shed his clothes. For once, he didn't mind simply dropping them where he stood. All naked he walked into his shower-stall and turned on the water. Hot and cold changing for a while until he was pleased with the temperature.

He wondered how he should reach out and talk to Gregory. Should he call him? Should he appear at Baker Street? Would he even understand?

All by themselves, his hands reached his groin fingering his testicles and cock. He groaned leaning back against the tiles. He thought about what Sergej had done to him. Gingerly he felt for his hole and spread his legs.

Soon he had two fingers inside and gently pushed while he stroked his cock. He panted while the water ran over his body. All over his freckled skin. He pressed his forehead against the tiles while he finger-fucked himself.

And he imagined Gregory's fingers and hands all over him. He imagined Gregory tie him into a suspension-rack and push him around. He imagined Gregory fucking him while being tied up. And he came. He groaned and spit out the water running down his throat. His body shook and he panted coming back to his senses.

Now he was horribly hungry and his stomach rumbled. He was still a bit shaky when towelling himself dry. He dropped the towel in the bath and chose another pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He padded downstairs with bare feet and opened his fridge. He saw that cook had pre-cooked some meals especially for Gregory and he smiled. He read all the stickers and decided on a risotto. He pulled out the container and poured the content into a pan. He also opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass. He leant against the counter and closed his eyes sipping the expensive spirit. He smelled the tasty food. There was only one more thing he now needed and it was Gregory.

***

Greg went to bed early that day and Sherlock had insisted on giving him the bedroom. He hadn't argued for a long time and finally gave in. Now he was sleeping beneath the blanket while Sherlock had a last look into the room. He also placed a bottle with water on the night-stand. He quietly closed the door again and wondered what to do next. He wasn't tired at all. He wasn't in the mood for the telly or the stereo.

Finally, he poured another wine and settled on the sofa with another folder of Greg's. He had brought work with him, of course he had. He typed his notes into his laptop and worked for several hours.

Sometimes later he heard Greg use the loo but he didn't come out. He simply went back to bed and his steps sounded tired. He really needed to rest and Sherlock left him alone.

Later in the evening his mobile dinged with a text alert. Curiously he picked it up. Who was texting him? He moved his finger over the display and read the text.

_”I went to experience. I need to talk to you.”  
MH_

His brother had done it. He had gone to Irene's. Sherlock swallowed but quickly typed a reply.

_”How are you? How was it?”  
SH_

Sherlock had no idea what else to ask.

_”I still feel tingly. I had a good time. She chose well. I found what I was looking for.”  
MH_

_”Meet tomorrow at Dr Kim's?”  
SH_

_“I'll set up an appointment.”  
MH_

_“Sleep well tonight, big brother.”  
SH_

_”I surely will. You too. Good night, Sherlock.”  
MH_

_”Good night, Myc.”  
SH_

Sherlock worked for another few hours until he sent another text.

_”Greg is suffering. He is worried he will lose you. He cried his heart out and told me everything that happened to him and his wife. I will tell you everything tomorrow.”  
SH_

Now he felt better and finished the last case. He stood from the sofa and walked over to the window looking out at Baker Street. How often had he stood here and wished to be outside amongst the pedestrians? How often had he longed for his freedom?

He sighed and leant against the cold glass. He was free again. John Watson was gone, disappeared from his life. But now he was without a dom. Before John, he hadn't known he needed one. Could he ever live on his own without a dom in his life?  
Would it be enough to visit a club like Irene's? Let himself be dommed and afterwards go home again?

The sun slowly came up over Regent's Park when he heard Greg rummage in the bedroom and walk into the bath. He smiled and decided to prepare breakfast. He would brew coffee and quickly dash downstairs into that café. He had never been allowed there but now he was, wasn't he? Now one would forbid him. He had no money though.

He turned to Greg's jacket and found some notes. He took them and started on the coffee. He cast a short look into the mirror. He still wore jeans and a t-shirt. He carefully sniffed himself and found he wasn't smelly.

He breathed and opened the door. He stepped outside and walked down the stairs. He opened the next door and stood outside. Only then he realised he had no shoes on. But it didn't matter. Shoes weren't important. Breakfast was.

Sherlock didn't notice Mrs Hudson lurking out of her door. She had heard the door upstairs and then someone on the stairs. She saw Sherlock holding the notes and open the door. She smiled and watched him.

Now he stood in front of Speedy's and looked inside. There were a few tables and some customers already enjoying their breakfast. Sherlock swallowed and felt some beads of sweat move down his spine. But then he pressed his lips together and pushed open the door. He made the step inside and stood in front of the counter reading the menu on the wall above.

“Good morning, Sir. What would you like?” The friendly girl behind the counter asked. And she had called him _Sir_. He returned her smile and ordered a large breakfast with everything he could think of. She packed it into two bags and he paid her. He just gave her all the money because he was so damn happy. She was too when looking at the notes. She opened the door for him and he returned into 221B.

He quickly climbed upstairs and quietly closed the door behind him. Then he saw Greg pouring coffee. They looked at each other and suddenly Sherlock felt as if nailed to the spot.

“Good morning! You worried me a bit when I couldn't find you.” Greg leant against the counter and sipped his coffee. Then his eyes moved over the bag Sherlock was holding.

“Have you brought breakfast?” The question woke Sherlock up again and he made a few steps towards Greg.

“Yes, I went downstairs into that café. I took some money from you. I will pay you back as soon as I can. I didn't mean to worry you, Greg. I am sorry.” He couldn't look at him.

Greg saw how he felt and put his mug down.

“Don't worry. It was quite a big step you just made. I am very proud of you.” Sherlock relaxed again.

“It felt good going down there.” He slowly stepped up and put the bags on the counter. At once Greg's hands were into it and he unpacked the first one.

“Perfect! Let's have breakfast!” He turned and got plates and knives. They sat at the table and enjoyed the goods. After his first coffee, Sherlock spoke up.

“How was your night?” He asked.

“I was so tired; I fell asleep at once. I woke only once because I needed the loo. I actually woke from the smell of coffee and decided to come out. But you weren't here. You couldn't be far though and I patiently waited.” Greg smiled.

“Do you feel better this morning?” Sherlock asked.

“Yes, I do. Much better.” Greg nodded.

“That's good. I am asking because I need to see Dr Kim today.” Sherlock said.

“And you want to go alone?” Greg asked.

“Yes?” Sherlock replied.

“Very good. Just text me when you have arrived, OK?”

“Of course.” Sherlock bit into another buttered toast and kept speaking with his mouth stuffed.

“Oh, I also solved the last of the crimes you brought from work. I mailed you the results because I had no post-its to write on.” Greg looked at him and then over to the sofa. There were all his folders stacked up.

“Thank you, I think. Have you slept at all?” He asked and Sherlock shook his head.

“No, I haven't. I wasn't tired. I enjoyed doing what I liked.” His joy was obvious and it made Greg happy, too.

“Sounds perfect to me, Sherlock.” They finished breakfast and Sherlock showered and got dressed. He actually chose a new suit Mycroft had provided and took his mobile. There was another text from Mycroft.

_”Eleven o'clock sharp at Dr Kim's. He knows and lets us take over his office.”  
MH_

Sherlock checked the time and knew he had to leave if he wanted to be on time.

“Since you took my last cash, take my card for the cab I have ordered for you.” Greg said and made Sherlock blush.

“Thank you, Greg. I will text you. Please, stay here. Just in case I need you to come for me.”

“Of course. Don't worry, OK?” Sherlock shook his head and took his mobile and Greg's card. Downstairs he found the cab already waiting. He entered and gave Dr Kim's address. He opened the door himself and talked to him for a few minutes until his brother arrived.  
They looked at each other and Dr Kim left them alone. They settled on the sofa and expectantly looked at each other.

“I'll talk first, shall I?” Sherlock said and Mycroft only nodded. And Sherlock talked. He told him everything about Greg and his night and day. Mycroft listened to everything and when he was done a bright smile was on his face.

“This is very good progress, brother-dear. I am very proud of you. And I am sorry for Gregory. He must have suffered a lot and I didn't know. How could I understand his actions when not knowing of his past?” He sadly shook his head.

“You couldn't. But now tell me about your experiences. I want to know. I need to know. Please?” Sherlock seriously looked at him.

“Well, I surely found what I was looking for. Miss Adler made a great choice. At first, it wasn't easy but the more I gave in, the more I enjoyed. You should know, I understand you. I can understand the addiction. I had a wonderful time and I know what I like. I will talk to Gregory today and explain my doings.”

“He is waiting for my call at Baker Street. You should just go there now. He will be there.” Sherlock said.

“But what about you?” Mycroft asked and Sherlock shrugged.

“I am good here. I can talk to Dr Kim for a while. He can do a check-up on me. I know he wants to. He is still worried. I will tell him about my progress. I will also text Greg it will take longer and he will stay where he is.”

“Very good. I will better be going then.” Mycroft stood and they hugged.

“He will understand. You know that, I told you everything he told me. He loves you so damn much.” Mycroft smiled and let go of his younger sibling.

“See you later.” Sherlock nodded and sat back down. Dr Kim entered the room a while later. He had probably shown Mycroft out.

“May I check on you now, Sherlock?” He asked and Sherlock stood.

“Sure.” He followed him into his examination-room and undressed. He looked at both his nipples and his cock where they had been pierced.

“This is healing very good. It won't go away but won't do any harm. Let me see your back.” Sherlock turned and felt his tender hands move over his scars.

“Well, laser treatment should work nicely. Several sessions might be necessary but they will mostly disappear.” Sherlock didn't comment on that. Instead, he got dressed again.

“Mycroft told me what you did this morning. I am also very proud of you, you know? And how is the Detective Inspector doing?” He asked.

“Yesterday he wasn't well. He cried a lot when telling me about his past and why he denied my brother his wishes. I understood his reasons. Now my brother is on the way to meet him. He will be surprised but they need to talk. I don't want them to break up. It just can't be.” He sadly shook his head.

“They are both adults and will manage the situation.” Dr Kim sounded very sure but Sherlock sighed anyway.

“I sure hope so.” Sherlock replied.

“Now, tell me about Baker Street, Sherlock. How does it feel to be back?” Dr Kim looked at him.

Sherlock told him about it all. About his bedroom, about everything restored. And about the room upstairs. Stripped bare, holding no memories.

“The only thing that bothers me is that I know John Watson is still out there. And no matter what my brother tells me, I won't ever feel safe again.” Sherlock quietly said.

“Are you telling me, you want him dead?” Dr Kim asked. They locked eyes.

“Yes, I am telling you exactly that. I not only want him dead; I need him dead.”

***

Mycroft was driven to Baker Street. He left his car and stood on the pavement looking up. The windows were open, Greg had probably smoked. He smiled.

He pushed open the door downstairs and met Mrs Hudson who was just leaving. He put a finger over his lips but smiled at her. He even hugged her. She was surprised but felt his commitment. And she left wishing him well.

Upstairs he politely knocked and heard Gregory's answer. He turned the knob and entered. And there he was turning around. He stilled and Mycroft closed the door.

“Gregory...” Mycroft whispered his name but Greg didn't move.

“I borrowed your bag.” He lifted it over his head and placed it on the table. Greg watched him and finally moved a bit closer.

“Myc. I missed you...” He roughly whispered the words.

“I missed you more...” They met in the middle and finally touched only with their fingers. Greg looked up at him and took his hand.

“Will you please listen to me explaining why I did what I did?” He asked.

“Yes, of course, I will. But afterwards you will need to listen to me too.” Mycroft said.

“I sure will. Sit down with me?” He gently pulled and they sat on the sofa. Greg exhaled and cleared his throat. And then he told him everything he had already told Sherlock. Mycroft simply listened to everything. And he really did understand. He knew how Gregory felt. And now he had to convince him that they were both strong enough to handle the situation. That the past must not rule over the present. That bad memories could be erased and replaced with better memories.

“Please, don't cry.” Mycroft said handing over a Kleenex. Gregory blew his nose and shook his head.

“I am so scared of losing you. It's an unbearable thought.” He looked into his eyes. Mycroft reached out for him again.

“Promise me to not slap my face after I told you what I have done.” Greg had to laugh and his body shook.

“Like I hit Sherlock? No. OK, I promise. I simply will listen to you.” They held each other's hands while Mycroft told him about his time at Irene Adler's and with Sergej. Gregory's eyes were wide open and he breathed hard but he did not once interrupt him. Mycroft finished his tale with his wank in the shower.  
Greg just gaped but then giggled. And he pulled him into his arms and held him tight.

“I love you so much. I will never hurt you, not intentionally though.”

“I love you too. And you should know, I trust you with everything regarding my well-being.”

“You haven't asked for much. I could have done it easily but I was too scared. But now I am willing to try it with you. But at first, I want you to tell me again what happened with that Sergej. What did he do exactly and what did he use? I need to hear every single thing.” Greg held both of his hands.

“You will. But not here. Please, come back home with me.” Mycroft asked.

“I would love to but I am not sure we can leave Sherlock alone. I don't think he has yet reached that stage.”

“You are right, of course. But I know what he needs to be able to. And you know it, too.” Mycroft said and he saw him swallow.

“Are you talking about _him_ dead?” Greg roughly asked.

“I am. He needs to be gone. Sherlock can't feel safe until the moment he knows he has vanished from this earth.”

“Do you have any plans regarding the issue?” Greg carefully asked.

“I have already given the order and now wait for the result being texted to me.” They looked at each other.

“How will you prove it to Sherlock?” Greg dared to ask.

“There will be video footage and I will hand it over to him. He can watch whenever he wants, with or without supervision. But he needs to take over his life again, get back to normal. Be a detective again.”

“I surely could need him back on my crime-scenes.” Greg said and his smile was quite a bit lopsided.

“He will be back soon enough.” Mycroft said.

“And now I have to text him to let him know that we are good. We are good, aren't we?” He looked into Gregory's dark brown eyes.

“We are very good.” Greg kissed him, slowly and languidly. Mycroft texted with his free hand while being kissed.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Sherlock left Dr Kim in a hurry but ensured him that everything was OK. He used Greg's card again to pay the cab and rode over to Baker Street. He dashed upstairs and pushed open the door.

Both Mycroft and Greg stood when he arrived there panting. He looked from one to the other and slowly relaxed when seeing their entwined fingers. And he smiled.

“You should go home and enjoy each other's presence.”

“We don't want to leave you alone. Plus, you have to bring stuff from Myc's in here. Only with your table of elements and the bat as well as your violin, this place will be complete again.” Greg said.

“You are right. But I will leave right away after. I can manage.” Sherlock slowly nodded.

Mycroft's mobile dinged with a text alert and Greg slowly turned his head. Sherlock knew something was up.

“Sherlock, I need to tell you that you are finally free again. Dr Watson is gone.” Mycroft looked serious. Sherlock's mouth opened and then closed again.

“You are not telling me has run away, are you?” Sherlock whispered.

“No, I am telling you it is over. Once and for all. You can live your life without worries. Start again.” Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes.

“And you are really sure?” He asked.

“Absolutely. There is video footage if you want.” Mycroft offered and Sherlock opened his eyes.

“Yes, I want. But at first I will pick up my stuff.” He straightened his slim body.

“Come along then.” Mycroft offered and they all rode over to Mycroft's place. Greg had picked up his work and his bag. He helped Sherlock retrieve his things and ordered another car.

“Are you sure you can manage this by yourself?” Greg asked a last time.

“Yes, I have to do it myself. Make my home as good as new. Then I will watch the footage. Alone. I will text you after.” He sounded rather calm and Greg slowly nodded.

“As you wish.” Sherlock left and Mycroft and Greg stood and watched the car disappear around the corner. They looked at each other and closed the door.

***

Sherlock changed his clothes and got the toolbox that had appeared after Mycroft's people had gone over 221B. He had watched Greg doing all this and now repeated everything. It worked perfectly and he was very pleased with himself.  
Afterwards, he had dinner and poured wine. He also prepared a tumbler with whiskey. Only then he stuck the data stick into his telly and took the remote. His hand was trembling a little bit but he continued. He stared at the still blank screen and exhaled shakingly. Then he pressed _Play_.

He slowly sipped his whiskey while watching it all end. It was quick. They used poison on him and had him stripped down. He must have been drugged already because he didn't fight or even struggle.

Sherlock stared at the screen and the camera followed the fluid through the hose. When it reached his arm, Sherlock swallowed. But he didn't turn his eyes away. He kept unblinkingly staring until the camera moved over to a screen where a flat line was on.

He exhaled slowly and the camera for the last time turned to the face of Dr John Watson. Now dead.

He sank back into the sofa and closed his eyes. He breathed for several minutes letting it sink in. He lifted up his tumbler but it was empty. He glared at it but then stood and topped it up. He stood looking out at Baker Street. He sighed and emptied his drink. He brought it into the kitchen and put it in the sink.

He straightened up and took his coat from the back of the door. He switched off the light and left 221B. He walked the streets for a while until he ended up on top of a roof overlooking his city.

The light illuminated the scene while he had a long look at everything. He felt wonderful. He was free. Mrs Hudson was back with him. Soon she would start serving him tea and cookies in the morning.

And Sherlock smiled.


End file.
